


A Symphony of Fire and Ice

by Nerdymum



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:42:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdymum/pseuds/Nerdymum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is forty-five years after the Reaper Wars and Dr. Mya Matthews has made a discovery that just may change the galaxy again. With the help of Deylos Krios, grandson of the legendary Hero and assassin Thane Krios, and a few other key players she goes on an adventure to keep her treasure out of dangerous hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. KAT

# Mass Effect: A Symphony of Fire and Ice

By: Nerdymum

Disclaimer: This is strictly fan-fiction and not written or shared for any monetary profit. Mass Effect and all recognizable names, places, or races are property of Bioware.

                                  

Chapter 1: KAT

“Secret agent man! Secret agent man! They’ve given you a number, and taken away your name.” Secret Agent Man, Johnny Rivers 1966

 

New Rakhana, Kahje

Approximately 45 years after the end of the Reaper Wars

 She had a good job; no, a great job! After working her way up the so-called corporate ladder Kayta Leiseh could claim with pride over Nyahir lunch that she was in a comfortable position in her life. She could look over the table at her successful lawyer of a brother and her overwhelmingly popular vocalist of a sister that she was the personal assistant to the CEO of Kahje Alert Teams. She felt a swelling of pride in her heart as she sat down at her desk, with her own name on the brass plate before her terminal, and her own customized comfy chair (ah, Corellian leather!).

 Kayta began her day like all other days at KAT by checking the extranet for messages, news that related to the wildly successful firm, and highlighting anything of interest for Sere Krios to look over in his spare time. She meekly adjusted the pale coral-colored veil over her crested head and tapped her communicator on to await any calls which she got to filter for her boss.

 The first few calls were simply clients he had personally dealt with before and she scanned through his calendar to see if any dates were available for them to meet. She yawned, drank from her cup of tea, and continued to work. The fifth call she answered sent her into super professional mode. Her back stiffened and her eyes went from a sparkle to an intent shine. Her phone voice deepened from happy, perky female drell to serious and determined professional assistant.

 “Yes, of course, your Honor; let me check and see if he is available,” she placed the call on hold and patched into the intercom.

“Sere,” she spoke firmly. A second later a light tenor male voice responded.

“Yes, Kayta?”

“You may want to take the current call, Sere Krios. It’s, well, it’s the Salarian representative of the Citadel Council.” Without delay the CEO gave the okay and allowed her to patch the call to his terminal. Kayta began to bite on her nails with anticipation, extremely curious about what the important call could possibly be about.

Behind the large black door that read “Kolyat Krios, CEO” was an expansive office only extremely wealthy men were privileged to have. In that expansive room were pieces of valuable furniture and focal points (mostly purchased by his wife Dana) screaming “I’m rich”. Kolyat knew that the office was to evoke some kind of power on his part. If he had it his way he would’ve gladly taken one of the more humble cubicles in the office workers’ area downstairs. Atlon, however, wouldn’t have it. He firmly stated that the owner of a large and successful company like KAT needed to prove that he was important enough to have an office where the desk cost just as much as said office worker’s yearly wages. Kolyat gave up because there was no use in arguing with Atlon. And Atlon had already bought the desk for his Naming Day.

Kolyat paced behind the desk, which was large enough to be used as a family dinner table (several guests included) and began the conversation with the Councilor. He anticipated an assistant to be on the other end, and was taken back when he realized it was the Dalatrass Orulessa herself.

“Kolyat Krios speaking.”

“Sere Krios, greetings. How are you this day?” she spoke with the quick cadence of the salarians but also with extreme kindness that was rare among politicians.

“As well as a busy businessman can get, your Honor. Is there something I can do for you?” The Councilor began to tell Kolyat what she needed from him and he listened with undivided attention. His full lips pulled into a tight line and his eyes narrowed soberly.

           “Of course, your Honor, I’ll speak with him immediately and I’ll personally contact you myself when he gives me an answer.” The conversation ended and Kolyat walked away from the huge, granite topped desk and towards the door.

           Kayta tried to keep focused on her job and not to spy on the call. She absently reapplied a blue-toned lip gloss, which accented her pretty lime-yellow skin just perfectly and started reading about her favorite movie celebrity. A loud smack of paper files on the end of her desk made her jump, almost out of her favored seat, and look up from her terminal. She covered her grief with a practiced smile, a smile that was almost too big for the interruption. It was Atlon Krios who forced the faux grin onto her mouth.

           He flashed a crooked smirk while leaning casually on her desk. On the outside he was handsome, charming, and well-spoken. With his aqua-toned skin and dark grey eyes he was considerably one of the better looking bachelors on Kahje. But Atlon’s problem lied within his inability to pull back the chauvinism; he talked about himself constantly. He could be annoying at times and also managed to overstay his welcome.

           “Hello, Kayta,” Atlon said in a schmoozing tone. “How are things this fine morning?” Kayta felt her mind panic and secretly wished she could hide into a memory lapse. She absently toyed with a stylus for her omni-tool and grit her teeth behind her lips in an effort to keep the grin on. The muscles in her cheeks began to strain.

           “Uh, busy. It’s been a busy morning, as most mornings usually are, because your father is a very busy man,” she swallowed loudly.

           Atlon puffed out his chest with pride as he began his usual routine of trying to impress. The perk of being the son of one of the most important entrepreneurs on Kahje was the ability to gain status within corporate circles. Atlon did pay his dues and certainly worked hard to get the position he had, but he was also proud to flash a holocard of his name stating that he was the VP of the company.

“Well, I had been working on the quarterly report based on our income for the PI departments, and comparing that to our fieldwork agents that added to a comparison percentage of around muffle, muffle, fuzz, fuzz…” she attempted to tune out his long-winded speech. Every so often she would interject the necessary “Uh-huhs”, “yeses” and even an “oh, that’s interesting”. Kayta was learning the art of lying thanks to Atlon.

           “So, are you doing anything this evening? Any big plans?” he asked as he leaned closer, grinning from frill to frill. Kayta desperately searched her mind for an acceptable excuse.

           “My sister is out of town, visiting a relative in Vashta City, and asked me if I would watch Teeta. He’s her salamander.” It was the truth but Teeta was a solitary amphibian who preferred his own company. Kayta really didn’t like the goanna-sized creature but getting nipped at the heels by his strong jaws was better than Atlon’s insufferable self-importance.

           “Oh, well, if you give me the address I can bring you dinner and we could-“ Atlon was quickly cut off as Kolyat walked out the door. Kayta stood to her feet at absolute attention. He turned to his youngest son and nodded to him.

           “Atlon,” he greeted shortly. Atlon stepped away from the desk and pulled his back into perfect posture as he declined his head to Kolyat.

           “Father,” he returned. Kolyat turned to Kayta and placed a hand on her shoulder. He never touched her unless something was serious.

           “Kayta, find me ‘Raptor’.” Kayta felt her blood race and her mouth go dry. She simply nodded and sat back down into her chair to track down the current location of KAT’s greatest asset, their top super agent.

 

O . . . O . . . O

 

            Sere Deylos “The Raptor” Krios was practicing sword work in the company gym. And he was incredibly good at it. His body had been honed to be an instrument of strength and skill in order to perform any job that was at stake. The job often involved a lot of fighting, escaping bad situations and, at times, getting rid of a “problem” permanently. He didn’t like to call himself an assassin, but he had taken a few fatal shots in his career and he never missed his mark. Due to his level of precision and perfection several drell, and even a few others outside of Kahje, came to know him as “The Second Thane”.

           In fact, looking at Deylos from a distance often evoked the memory of the Reaper War Hero, his belated grandfather Thane Krios. There were several similarities the two held such as vocal tone, facial structure; even the style of work ethic nearly mirrored the legendary assassin’s. But Deylos hated to be compared to a man he thought of as his personal superhero. He kept his insecurities to himself, however, and even used that self-hatred to make him better, stronger, and faster in his tasks.

           He tended to be a bit of a recluse and somewhat rebellious. He didn’t have much care for office work and when he was forced to sit behind a desk for corporate meetings involving him he often fidgeted and fumbled until the sessions were over. His first love was field work.  It was what he was born to do; to be an instrument of representation for the company.       

           Atlon stepped into the company gym and watched his older brother swing the heavy sword over his head. He winced when the blade came close to slicing off the two tungsten carbide hoops permanently pierced into Deylos’ left frill and decided to stay right up against the wall. Loud music echoed across the expanse of the room, loud enough he could feel the beat pulse against his heartbeat. To announce his presence he used his omni-tool to shut the noise off. It had been loud enough his ears rang once the sounds died away.

           “What do you want?” the graveled, velvety dark voice asked. His peacock green eyes met Atlon’s gaze and revealed that the arrival of his brother had him annoyed for the interruption.

           “Good to know you’re keeping up with the current trends; nicely done, Deylos!” the younger man retorted with sarcasm in regards to the music he silenced. Deylos, still swinging the sword around, frowned darkly.

           “Unless you’re here for something important I suggest you leave me in peace. I don’t need your snide comments to accompany my exercise routines.”

 “Father needs to see you,” Atlon changed his tone and watched him immediately stop his work. He swung the weapon down and carefully deposited it back into the scabbard hooked onto the wall before running out the door towards the elevator. Atlon followed at a much slower, less worked, pace, sighing a long, lingering note as he did so.

 Deylos jogged up the hallway on the executive offices floor and stopped before the desk of his father’s assistant. He watched, with some amusement, as the young woman rose to her feet, neck flushing purple against the soft blue of her throat, and bowed in respect to him. A seductive grin snaked crookedly up his pouty lips as he returned the polite greeting. She was young, just out of University, but not too young, he thought brashly as he mentally painted a picture of luring her into his bed.

 “Good morning, Sana,” he spoke, “I was told my father requested to speak with me.”

 Kayta dropped her gaze, eyelids fluttering with deep admiration, as a genuine smile lit on her face. She toyed with the weights of the veil absently and pressed the com button into Kolyat’s office as she announced Deylos to his father.   

 “Go on in, Sere,” she blushed again. “May I get you a tea or something?”

 “No, thank you,” Deylos shook his head and winked as he pushed into the office.

 Kolyat looked up to see his eldest son enter, standing pin straight with his arms folded behind his back.  

“Father, you asked for me?” Deylos saw the look on his father’s face and knew that Atlon wasn’t being melodramatic. Something was either very important or very wrong. Or both.

 Kolyat blinked and felt himself fall into a memory. It was so strange to look at his own offspring and see parts of his father staring back at him.

            _He smiles weakly at me, hands clenched tightly together so they don’t tremble. I don’t want to look at him, I want to hate him. My eyes are still stinging from the tears I cannot stop. The C-Sec officer Bailey is forcing me to do community service as opposed to jail time. I know Father has something to do with that. I don’t know whether to feel grateful or insulted. He exhales, begins to speak._

_"_ _Kolyat, I cannot begin to express my sorrow and guilt. I can only ask, with the time I have left, we can forgive each other for our transgressions. And if you can’t forgive me I understand.”_

_I_ _steal a glance at him. I am so angry! So angry! But he is weeping. My father is weeping in front of me…_

“Father?” Deylos’ raspy voice jerked Kolyat from the sad memory. He smiled weakly and shook his head.

           “Forgive me, son, a passing moment there. I just received an interesting call a few moments ago. Ah, Atlon! Decided to join the conversation?” the patriarch of the family asked as the younger brother entered the office.

           “Curiosity, mainly, if you don’t mind.”

           “Not at all. Now, as I was saying, I received a call from the Citadel Council. It was the Dalatrass Orulessa asking us for help with a very serious matter. Deylos, you have been requested to act as both a bodyguard and a shadow-walker to a human scientist. The laboratory partner is secretly the next Salarian Councilor and he suspects that their lives are in danger. He fears that someone wants to take whatever it is they are currently working on and use it as a weapon. Unfortunately, she couldn’t give me too much more information than that unless you agree to take the case.”

 Deylos felt his brow lower over his eyes as he weighed the vague explanation.

           “Where are they located?” he asked, hoping to divulge anything else.

           “Earth, in the city of New York, working in the University. It must be serious for the Councilor to contact me herself. She seemed to me to be quite nervous, even for a salarian,” Kolyat explained. “How does your schedule look?” Before Deylos could speak Atlon had opened his omnitool and began to rattle off current cases that involved his brother’s participation.

           “Nothing major, except for the constant barrage of updates sent to him via the Spectres. Apparently the Asari Councilor still wants proof. She is one arrogant politician, if you ask me,” the younger Krios shrugged.

           “I didn’t,” Deylos snorted. He barely tolerated Atlon’s arrogance and his “humble opinions” which was his excuse for spouting off proudly. Kolyat raised his hands to end the argument before it became ugly. Putting the two brothers into a room together was like trying to mix oil and water.

           “Fine. So, other than the Spectre business you’re pretty much free and clear, yes?”

           “Yes,” Deylos nodded. “Do you have an estimated time on how long the case would take?”

           “Again,” Kolyat sighed and walked around his large desk, glancing at a holo of his lovely wife, “there was little she could tell me unless we agreed to the case. I know that it’s not enough info to give you to base a decision on, Deylos, but I trust your judgment. If you don’t want to take the case I will understand. I won’t force any pressure on you, son.”

Deylos rubbed his black marked chin, deep in thought. He felt the constant pressure of the promise of becoming a Spectre, knowing that they had been watching him for a few years. The Drell had never been elected into the elite law enforcement group and to even be nominated was a huge honor. However, Deylos wasn’t sure he even wanted the position.                     

“Contact the Councilor and let her know that I have agreed. I want all the info that can be deferred sent directly to my terminal encoded. She’ll understand,” he spoke, and again Kolyat felt a chill run up his spine. He saw flashes of his father in his mind. He nodded slowly.

“Of course, son. Atlon, get Aris and Etro up here. With Deylos away from KAT for an unknown amount of time they’re going to have to step up their game.” Atlon nodded solemnly and created a memo to the other agents. Kolyat smiled weakly at Deylos and patted his shoulder.

“Good luck, and be safe.” Deylos bowed to his father, his hand going to his heart.

“As always,” he promised.

 Kayta stood from her seat when the door opened and her heart skipped again when Deylos exited. He smiled that grin and she felt her resolve begin to melt so she quickly bowed to hide her bashfulness.

“Sere,” she greeted.

“Kayta, could you let all my contacts know that I will be out of commission for an unknown length of time” he asked politely. Kayta nodded and opened her terminal to the list of the agent’s main contacts.

“Of course. Anything else I could do for you?” she smiled.

Temptation to draw her away from that desk made his mouth dry and his heart race. He could easily take her. He could easily have her wrapped around his finger, but he could also break her heart. He took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“No, thank you, Sana,” he bowed his head and started down the hall.

Kayta swallowed the hard lump that had built in her throat and scanned over Deylos’ contact list. She sent a quick note to all and slowly sat back down in her seat, grabbing her tea mug with shaking hands. She had a deep, penetrating feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing him again for a very long time.

           

            O . . . O . . . O

 

 He knew he had a promise to keep and he rarely ever broke one unless it was out of his control. He paced down the streets at a slow, measured stride, avoiding any stares he met. For whatever insane reason he could never understand why the Priesthood decided to build the temple to the traditional polytheistic religion on the shoreline away from the comforts and protection of the force-field domes covering the cities and the thought of walking out into the warm, penetrating rains that was Kahje’s weather made him even more contrary than before. He passed under the arching exit and threw his coat’s hood low over his face. Immediately, the heavy rains weighed down the thick leather of his armored coat and his spirit. If he had it his way he wouldn’t have planned the meeting at the temple, but since he always gave in to her he agreed without so much of a grunt of complaint.

 Deylos entered the temple with some discomfort and kept his hood low enough to shadow his features. There were only a few drell present in the pews focused on their own prayers to whatever god they were sending alms to. He paused by the statue of Amonkira represented by a massive male fierce of face and hand clutching to a tall spear. Gifts of fine leathers and furs were placed at the god’s feet. He took a red candle and lit the fresh wick on a burning one, taking it with him to one of the pews near the back. He stared at the candle; the small flame flickered slightly as he breathed.

 It had been some time since he prayed to any god or stepped foot in the small yet decorative structure. It still smelled of the spicy incense they lit during ceremonies on holy days and it took him back to times when he fought with his mother and father on weekend mornings when they drug him out of bed to attend Sabbath. He almost smiled as he remembered howling all the way to the temple inside the shuttle car, complaining that the priest was a fat, old, boring miser who took too long to talk about things everyone already knew. Those were the moments when dear Dana Krios would turn around in her seat, teal green eyes narrowed in warning as she shook her finger at him.

“Deylos, another word and you’re grounded!” she would threaten in her soft voice. The boy would often retreat in silence and pout the entire time until Sabbath was over, usually the first one to run to the car.

 His mind went away from the fond memories of being a stubborn child and back onto the new mission he had taken. Reading the information he decoded from his console left him in a dower mood. His missions as of late had been getting more and more dangerous. The last one was proof of that, he recalled as he touched the two tungsten carbide hoops pierced into his left frill. He nearly failed.

 The warm flame flickered as he breathed, drawing into a calm, hypnotic state. He sighed and closed his eyes and he attempted to pray. The feelings of anxiety, self-doubt, and frustration began to melt away.   Finally, the words of the prayer entered his mind and he allowed himself to fall into a peaceful lull.

  _Amonkira, lord of hunters, grant my hands be steady, my feet be swift, my mind cleared. Amonkira, king of battles, grant me a calm heart and a strong breath. Amonkira, feared by my enemies, grant me success in my tasks. Grant me victory. Let my pride not best me. Let my head not be filled with useless lusts. Let my stomach not be filled with boasting. And should I falter in my quest…_

He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. The skylights showed the infinite clouds that covered Kahje. His heart skipped a beat, a strange feeling of uncontrollable fear that almost overwhelmed him.

“Grant me forgiveness,” he whispered.

An hour passed by with the drell agent staring up at the rain clouds when he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone. A hand pulled at the edge of his hood and he came face to face with a smiling female of chartreuse skin and grey-teal eyes. She was lovely and garbed in pure white clothes, the veil over her head a rich asari silk.

“Hello, handsome,” she greeted quietly. Deylos smiled as she sat down, a white candle in her hands symbolizing the mother goddess Arashu.

“ _Straihyana_ , Irikah,” he greeted as he removed the hood from his head.

“You’re early, even for you,” she laughed and placed her candle on the holder before their seats. Her laugh softened when she saw the red candle clutched in his fist.

“You got another mission, didn’t you?” she asked. Deylos nodded and breathed in deeply.

“I did. How did you know?”

 Irikah Idarie smiled and pointed to the candle, a smirk on her face nearly mirroring his.

“You never come to the temple unless you think something bad will happen. The last time you were here was when you went after the Batarian. I remember it didn’t end well,” she took his free hand and held it in hers. “Are you still coming to dinner?”

“Of course, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay long. I must leave tomorrow,” he informed and Irikah sighed sadly.

“Oh, Deylos! You just got back to Kahje a week ago! Is it that serious?”

“It may be, but I don’t know and I can’t say much.”

 “You can’t tell me where you’re going, can you?” she picked absently at the dripping wax as it cooled down the column.

“I’m afraid not,” he shook his head and regarded her with sadness. Irikah smiled weakly and leaned over to kiss his marked cheek, her head dropping to his shoulder.

“At least we’ll have some time together then. Aesit misses you dearly. He worships you as though you were his own personal superhero.” She heard a snort come from his nose.

“He needs to find a better idol than me,” he muttered coldly.

“There’s nothing wrong with my son looking up to you. You are his favorite uncle. Don’t you dare tell Atlon!” she laughed again. A smile appeared back on Deylos’ lips as he thought of his red-skinned nephew running to him and nearly knocking him over with a hug. The boy was strong for a seven year old.

“Don’t worry. Atlon doesn’t need to know everything, despite what he may think.” Irikah nodded in agreement. She loved her youngest brother but she and Deylos always had a deep bond between them, and he often visited or contacted her whenever he could.

“When you are ready we can head to my home,” she informed and he nodded, staring back into the red candle’s flame. He carried it to the statue of the hunter god and made a quick hand gesture of alms before walking back to his sister, her arm slung casually through his.

“Listen, I know you can’t tell me anything, but promise me one thing,” she said as they entered his shuttle car.

 “Yes?”

“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot again,” she grinned. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he momentarily relived that particular accident.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not as long as I live, my brother!” she grinned wryly.


	2. The Element

Chapter 2: The Element

“I see a red door and I wanted it turned black. No colors anymore I want them to be black!” Paint It Black, The Rolling Stones, 1966

 The gray skinned Salarian stared at the catalyst, a small flake of pure gold, in the test tube, and he began to think. He pondered, blinked, thin fingertips tapping on his left jaw, then he sighed and gave up, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his white lab coat. He had read archaic tales of the Philosopher’s Stone, an unknown substance that could magically change anything into gold.

How was this any different, he asked himself. With the exception of the gold itself he saw no reason not to call this a Philosopher’s Stone experiment. It was, after all, changing something into something else. It just wasn’t possible. He gazed up at the massive holoboard glow its amber light and scanned the messy, frantic human hand-writing that was completely unorganized and barely legible. There were various notes on the Theory, odd equations he himself couldn’t understand. He could see the frustration in the hurried notes.

Nareid Solus, of the ever influential Solus family, walked out of the laboratory and into the next room where the owner of the Theory currently was. He felt pity, a deep sorrow in his heart for the human who he had quickly befriended in the three years he has worked with the brilliant physicist. Dr. Matthews, he discovered, was quiet, thoughtful, independent, but also faulted with stubbornness, obsessive-compulsive habits, and completely avoided anything that would result in confrontation. He watched the human continue to write on a datapad while eating a meager dinner of a chicken salad sandwich and a glass of water. In fact, that was probably the most consumed in two days.

 The weight loss was significant, making the pale scientist appear gaunt and ill. His pity turned to fear. Not just a fear for the precious life before him drifting away into nothing, but a fear of Matthews as well. There were times when those sapphire eyes would look into his and he could feel some unknown, deep power; something almost bigger than the galaxy itself. Then again, those were the times when the poor salarian was running on less than an hour’s sleep.

“What is it, Nareid?” the quiet, yet firm voice shattered his thoughts. He blinked himself back to reality and regarded his partner, still not looking up from the work.

“Dr. Matthews, I am concerned,” he began, wringing his hands nervously.

“And?”

“Of all the possible choices for a useable particle in the hadron collidor, why gold? We could use something radioactive, like neptunium- “

“Radioactive material is too unstable for what I’m looking for,” the human interrupted. “Gold is noncorrosive and nonreactive. It is notoriously stubborn to bond with any other element. I’ve thought long and hard about what catalyst would be appropriate.” The sapphire eyes finally looked up at Nareid.   They narrowed and Matthews knew Nareid’s purpose for the visit.

“That’s not the real reason you’re concerned.”

 Nareid sighed and slouched weakly.

“I am worried about you,” he admitted, his dark orange eyes regarding the scientist sadly. “You never leave the University, you barely take enough nourishment to support yourself, you think of nothing but the experiment. Even to a salarian, like me, that kind of behavior is considered unhealthy. Don’t you ever want a break from your work?”

Matthews showed no reaction and looked away.

“This is my life, now,” the voice dropped low, barely audible. The salarian frowned darkly and shook his head. He took a step towards the physicist.

“No, it cannot. You’ve become obsessed!”

“I am not,” Matthews protested softly, scooting the barely touched sandwich away. Nareid felt tears touch his eyes.

“You are. You hardly sleep, your nose is, for all intensive purposes, glued to that holoboard! One day, and mark my words Matthews, you are going to crack under the pressure you’ve caused yourself.”

 The human’s head swung around and those eyes, Kelvin cold, seeped into Nareid’s soul, and he felt his body freeze. He began to see the metaphoric wall start to crack. The hands trembled on the table; he could see the condensation outline flare out from the human’s fingers. Finally, exhausted, Matthews sank lowly into the chair and sighed. The frigid stare faded into weak gray.

 “Unless you have something important to report, please leave me in peace, Dr. Solus,” the voice begged sadly. Nareid simply nodded and walked away, closing the door behind him. The tears he held back fell from his eyes and he shook his head, already mourning.

“You’ve lost your peace, Mya.”

 Mya Matthews, PhD, was the head particle physicist for New York University, located on the edge of Central Park. The battles of the Reaper Wars decimated the original campus and a new location was granted to the old college once the cities started reconstruction.   It quickly became a popular school especially since it was unknown if the Mass Relays would ever be repaired. Student of all races flocked to the campus, even after the Relays became workable twenty years after the Wars ended. Many xenos came to call Earth home and many more seemed to make the planet a home due to notoriety it gained from the galactic savior with the name of Shepard. Earth became a planetary shrine of hope and to be associated with it was quickly becoming a status symbol.

 Mya grew up on the stories of Commander Shepard as most human children in that time did. Sure, some of them may have been stretched to make them more interesting but they were an important part of current history. Shepard was a comparison of who everyone wanted to be “when they grew up” and Mya was no exception to the rule. Though she never went into any branch of military she fell in love with the concept of helping people, saving others with intelligence and perseverance. So she turned to the realm of physics, a field that even in that time still had infinite mysteries. And Mya loved a good mystery.

 She had made science her life, her blood, and many thought she had gone insane. For the past two years she barely spoke to anyone but the salarian she allowed as her sole laboratory partner. Prior to those years, she was considered a little eccentric but kind and always eager to talk of the universe and what secrets it held.

 But something had happened. Something left her cold and unapproachable. She locked herself away in the unfinished laboratory section of the school and never showed her face. Rumors swam around NYU of a top secret project headed by the Alliance government but no one seemed to know exactly what. It was something, they would say, that could change the galaxy as everyone had come to know it.

According to her theories, the ones she shared with Nareid and Nareid only, there was another subatomic particle out in the universe, neither radioactive or nonreactive, not solid, liquid, or gas in any state, but a pure source of inertial energy that would supply the galaxy with unending power for an unknown length of time, hundred, perhaps thousands of years, even until the end of time, she never knew. But she knew it was there. And she was, according to her hypothesis, only days away from actually finding it. She had no name to it but The Element and no one knew of it but her and Nareid. At least, that’s what she thought.

Nareid knew that something was amiss when the theory kept creeping closer and closer to reality. He quickly contacted the Citadel Council, as he was secretly up for the position of the next Salarian Representative, and requested help. They responded days later with word that an agent, unattached to any planetary or Citadel based government, would be provided to watch Mya and take her away from danger should it ever arise. He knew something bad would happen. His instincts were never wrong. Word would somehow get out and Mya would get hurt, or possibly killed. He couldn’t let that happen. He would put himself in danger if it meant keeping her from harm and the secret just that; a big, fat, dark secret.

 It was later that week, as he was thinking about Mya and her obsession with The Element, that he found himself waiting patiently, as patiently as an antsy salarian could, outside of Cochran Hall where he was instructed to be to meet the agent. Word was he was one the best in the galaxy. It did little to ease his anxiety. He looked down at his omnitool at the time for probably the tenth time that hour. He was still early, but he continued to tap his foot nervously.

 “Dr. Solus,” a dark voice interrupted his twitching. Nareid turned around and came face to face with the agent. A smile curled quickly up his thin lips and he bowed as it was proper when meeting a drell.

 “Sere Krios, I presume?”

“You may,” he answered politely. Every drell he ever met were polite, well-spoken, and when they put their incredible minds to something extremely efficient. He knew the Council had made a wise decision by hiring him.

“Well, let me bring you up to speed,” he led him towards the laboratory giving him a rough draft of what all was going on. He told him of the Element and just how close Mya was to discovering it. He also told him of his suspicions that someone else possibly knew. He had been noticing strange people on the campus lately, big men who wore non-military grade armor. He didn’t like the way they looked. The agent made a mental note and said he would keep a close watch whenever possible.

“I don’t want Dr. Matthews to know that I sent for someone to watch over her. She would not be happy and I think it would be unwise to disturb her. She’s worked for this moment for many years. I know she’s in a very fragile state right now.”

“I shan’t make my presence known to her, unless I have no choice should trouble arise,” the drell agreed.   Nareid sighed in relief and nodded.

“Right. This way,” he showed him through the doors.

O . . . O . . . O

 Deylos sat quietly in the rafters above the large laboratory in the vaulted ceilings and looked down at the human. At first, he wasn’t sure what to expect. During his trips through the Mass Relays to get to Earth he had a few days to study his latest subject. As was typical, he found bits and pieces of her history; her education, salary, basic information on her family life. If he was to get deeper in depth that would require some heavy credits to be placed on the proverbial table and a meeting with the Shadow Broker. He wasn’t quite to that point yet. Plus he wanted to watch her for a while before he made that leap.

 She seemed so small to him, barely significant, but according to the dossiers that the Council and Nareid gave to him here was a mentally powerful individual. She stood frozen at the holoboard and stared at the equations, fingernail tapping absently on her bottom lip. Moments later she stepped away and produced a tiny clear crystal cube from a small lead box. She placed it on a large electron microscope and peered into the viewer. Another moment later she walked away in disgust, grumbling English obscenities under her breath.

The cube obviously was a failure. Her sudden irritation fascinated him and he leaned closer to get a better look.

She walked back over to the board and erased part of an equation, changing a few variables and numbers. He scooted his foot forward, his leg falling asleep. The human stopped in her footsteps and looked up. Deylos leapt into the shadows and pressed himself tightly against the ceiling. He could see those dark blue eyes looking at him but never said a word. She shook her head and went back to her work, undaunted.

She always continued with her work as he began to notice over the next several days of watching her. She barely stopped for any kind of break and her voice never broke anything louder than a whisper. She was polite to Nareid but also ultimately the alpha in the work. She slept in a small broom closet in the laboratory, no known home that Deylos could tell. He began to feel a sense of admiration for the human, for her stoic quiet and her determination. He also felt a touch sorry for her. Something drastic drove her to this obsessive state, something that was most likely out of her control. He wondered if he would ever find out what tragedy dropped her to the edge of sanity.

 He slept above her in the lab, years of practice of learning how to find rest in awkward situations benefited him. He would meet with Nareid about once a day to discuss the progress in the experiment and how close she was to finding the answers.

“It’s hard to say,” the salarian sighed. “It could be today, it could be weeks from now. It’s simply finding the right composition that fits just so.”

“What do you want me to do if she does discover it within a short time?” the drell asked. Nareid looked up at him, his features resolute.

“Take her away from here. Take her somewhere safe where no one can harm her. This experiment is perhaps the most important scientific discovery to date. If someone gets a hold of it and decides to use it for ultimate domination the entire galaxy is in trouble. We don’t know if it can be weaponized. We just know that it will cause a mass effect for everyone.”

“What about you?”

 “I will come as well if there is no choice in the matter, but I’d rather stay to defend her,” he sighed again and looked down at her hands. “She knows that she’s in danger. She senses it, though I don’t know how as consumed as she is with the Element.”

“I will be prepared to take her away,” the agent agreed.

Nareid took a deep breath.

“Thank you.”

 O . . . O . . . O

 It was a Sunday. And, like most places on Earth, Sunday was a lazy day in which few people worked. NYU was a ghost town on Sundays which meant only the bored and the crazy actually worked at the University on that day. Mya was not bored. She had often been called crazy.

 She placed the crystal cube onto the small platform of the electron microscope and turned on the viewer just has she had done hundreds of times. She placed her right eye over the small opening of the viewer the same way she had done hundreds of times.      

Only this time there was something inside. It wavered and shifted in the vacuum of space surrounding it, glowing and glittering as it spun around and around slowly yet ridiculously fast at the same time. The right eye nearly bulged from the socket. A cold sweat broke out on Mya’s forehead and her breath left her body. Her hands began to tremble.

“Oh, oh my god!” she whispered on her tingling lips. She pulled away from the viewer, blinked, and looked back down just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. It was unlike any particle she had ever seen before. It had no definite form but it was more vivid than anything she had ever seen. It shot out massive waves of energy, constantly dimming the lights in the laboratory yet sending out its own force and caused a few electronics to explode in the microscope. She grabbed the tiny crystal cube, a failsafe that kept the only atom of the Element in her current possession from not reacting to any other atom or molecule around, and ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the hallway where Nareid was eating his lunch.

“Nareid!” she screamed as she bolted down the hall, left hand tightly around the datacube. She burst through the door to his office and slid to a halt. The salarian dropped his fish sandwich.

“Did you?” he asked when he saw the elated look of shock on her face. She gasped for air, holding out her shaking left fist.

“I-I,” was all she could muster out of her mouth. Nareid stood from his seat and followed her to the large laboratory to see the one thing he and Dr. Matthews had been searching for, for three long years. He pulled up his omnitool, his hand shaking, as he sent an encoded message to the shadow-walker who was waiting outside Cochran Hall.

In the lab, Mya placed the cube back onto the platform and changed the viewer from a periscope sight to a holographic image that engulfed the expanse of the room. The particle was spinning slowly in the projection, sparkling brighter than a diamond as the huge waves of energy raced around the pinpoint that was its center. Nareid shook his head in awe.

“I-I don’t believe it! Yet, there it is! It’s beautiful, Mya!”

“Also sprach Zarathustra,” she sighed.

The door smashed in.

Seven men in mercenary gear with blue stripes painted on the breastplates rushed in with guns poised at the two scientists. Mya turned on her heels to face the intruders, her face pale with fear. Nareid felt his stomach clench. He knew something like this would happen.

 “The datacube, now!” a huge human man cried out, waving a large assault rifle at the woman. She looked at the salarian, his brow low over his large eyes. He nodded to her. The Blue Suns mercs eased thinking he was giving her the okay to hand it over. Mya took the cube from the microscope, the holographic image disappearing, and placed it back on the chain she had made to fit around the outside. She was trembling but, quickly, clasped the necklace around her neck and ran to the ventilation shaft in the back of the room.

“Run, Mya! Run with all you have!!” Nareid screamed. Gun fire thundered in the laboratory.

 The drell ran quickly over the rooftops of Cochran Hall, cursing under his breath. He bust through the elevator shaft and slid down the wire bundles, the steel toes on his boots sparking against the metal. When he reached the bottom floor he nearly flew towards the laboratory, a prayer to the gods on his tongue.

“Please, don’t let her die!”

He reached for the hand cannon at his belt, loading the barrel with an incendiary round, and slid around the corner, heading towards the room.

Mya turned around for a second too long and saw Nareid fall to the floor, green salarian blood splattering the floor. She screamed in horror, hot tears burning her eyes. The mercenaries looked up from their kill and ran towards her. Mya pushed through the shaft vent and jumped inside, sliding down towards the basement. She gasped in pain as bullets ripped through her side, her legs. A powerful shot gun round blasted her left arm, tearing the bones to pieces. She barely felt the pistol round graze her skull. She used all the strength she had left and crawled through the vents until she reached a level spot. She tasted the dull metallic liquid in her mouth and knew she was losing large amounts of blood. She fell onto her back and began to choke, her left lung collapsing. She reached down with her right hand and felt her entrails escaping her abdomen.

           

“No,” she gurgled as she felt herself die.

The Blue Suns ran out of the laboratory, leaving the dead salarian where he fell. The first man rounding the corner received the shock of his life when he felt a hot bullet rip through his heart. The last thing he saw was a pair of furious black eyes. The second and third mercenary readied their guns to kill whoever murdered their comrade. The guns were deftly kicked from their hands, one shot in the head, the other met death with a broken neck.

“We’ve got an assassin! Heads up, boys!” the leader of the mercs ordered. They stepped over the dead bodies and carefully padded down the hall, not a trace of another person in sight. They didn’t see the shadow that was sneaking up behind them, two pistols clenched in his hands. Two shots fired simultaneously and two men fell. The last two turned on their heels, one man killed instantly by two more shots nearly exploding his skull off his head.

“Fuck!” the last man cursed. He held his rifle weakly, unable to pull the trigger for fear. The drell approached calmly, his face the mask of Death. He raised one gun to his forehead.

"Who sent you?” he demanded in a cold, dark voice.

“I take it to my grave,” the mercenary growled. The hammer cocked back, sharp white teeth gleaming dangerously behind the full lips.

 “Who?!” the drell asked again, a roar like a mad tiger coming from his throat.

“Fuck you, asshole!” the human sealed his fate. One single round rammed through his helmeted head, brain matter spilling to the floor. Deylos didn’t wait for the man to fall. He ran into the stairway to the basement.

 O . . . O . . . O

Two gloved hands punched at the metal ventilation shaft above his head. He saw the dripping blood falling from that particular location and felt his adrenaline kick in; he punched again and the metal began to buckle and rip. He kept going, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. His muscles began to spasm as he jerked the metal hole larger. Finally, a limp pale hand slipped from the gap, bright red and sticky. There was human blood everywhere. He reached up and gently pulled her out, a red rag doll in his arms. He placed his head to her torn chest, broken ribs splintering out of her skin, and heard, to his relief, the faint fluttering of a heartbeat. Air hissed from her left lung. He cut the lab coat from her body and began to wrap tourniquets around her limbs, stuffing her abdomen full of the material.

He clutched the woman tightly to his chest and ran toward the parking garage where he had a shuttle car waiting. The vehicle pulled away just as a large throng of police cars raced to the laboratory building, sirens blaring. He set the car on autopilot for a nearby alliance base where he knew there was a shuttle waiting to take him to the ship above the atmosphere.

He bent over her, ripping an IV needle pack open with his teeth, and slid into the only vein he could find in her right arm. Gently, he attached a plasma bag to the tubes and pulled her back into his arms. Her head lolled back and a river of blood ran out her mouth and nose. Carefully, wiped it away, his thumb caressing her cold cheek.

“Dr. Matthews, if you can hear me, I’m getting you out of here,” he whispered in her ear. There was no response but he did see a finger move on her right hand. He grabbed the hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I’m getting you out of this hell.”

The car landed on the air field and three alliance soldiers ran to help the agent to the shuttle, the body of the woman placed on a cot. Medics and nurses flocked to her side and began to work on her broken form. Deylos was the last one to enter the shuttle, the drell jumping inside as it lifted into the air. He wanted to make sure they weren’t followed. Inside the head nurse, an asari, placed a hand on his arm.

“Sere Krios, I’m Sia,” she yelled over the loud jets of the shuttle. “I’ve been instructed by the Citadel Council that Dr. Matthews is to be taken to Illium. Do you have contacts in Nos Astra?”

“One,” he nodded and opened his omnitool to flash an image of a young asari doctor with a line of violet tattoos on her brow. The nurse grimaced and looked back up at him in doubt.

“Are you sure you want to request her services?”

“She’s the best in the galaxy. I have no choice.”

“Perhaps, but she’s in a bit of hot water.”

“I know,” he smiled weakly. He looked back down at Mya and took her right hand in his.

“Come on, Matthews, fight,” he whispered as he placed his forehead against hers. “Just fight.”

 

 

           

 

 

 


	3. The Awakening

Chapter 3: The Awakening

“Wake me up inside, wake me up inside! Call my name and save me from the dark.”

Bring Me To Life, Evanescence 2003

_The pain!!!_ _Oh my god, what’s happening to me? I_ _can’t see!_ _Why can’t I see?!_ _I can’t feel my body, but there’s so much pain!_ _Where am I and what happened? Why is there so much pain…?_

           A quiet beeping noise passed from her hearing.

            _I still can’t see, but I feel my heart beating. I feel sick. And I can’t breathe! Please, anyone! Help me!! Just help me…_

 Unconsciousness…

  _T_ _here! There’s my finger! Move, damn it! Wiggle it, now, you weak bitch!_ _Wake up! Wake the fuck up!!_ _There’s something in my throat… a tube?  I_ _t’s not letting me breathe! Gotta breathe! Breathe, breathe!!_ _FIGHT!!_

 “Quick, hold her down!” a feminine voice, distorted in her hearing, cried out. “She’s seizing! Dr. Matthews, can you hear me? Hold my hand!”

_Don’t fucking touch me!!_

 “Dr. Matthews, just hold in there for a few moments and it will go away…”

_You bitch._

 Unconsciousness…

  _My entire body itches! Ugh! Someone, please, scratch my brain!_ _Wait, the tube is gone. I can breathe on my own!   Now, let’s try to figure out what the hell is going on. My mind can’t focus on one thing, and everything hurts. My arm hurts. So does my chest._ _Am I dead?_ _No, I can still feel this horrible pain._ _Why is no one helping me?!_

 “Dr. Matthews,” the same female voice as before, “if you can hear me, lift your hand.”

Mya slowly, weakly raised it about an inch.

 “Thank you. Very good. If you are feeling pain, can you lift it again?”

_O_ _f course, I’m in pain, you stupid bitch!!_

 The hand lifted again and a faint groan came from her throat.

 “Just stay put for a second, I’ve got a hypo of morphine here for you.”

_Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you a bitch. I don’t normally act so mean to people who are helping me. But I’m so confused. Please, help me. Please?_

 “Rest easy, I’ll be back later to check on you.”

_Okay. I’m so tired…_

 O . . . O . . . O

 “Ugh,” she groaned in pain, feeling a thick nausea in her stomach; she needed to vomit. She gagged but nothing came out. Her hands gripped at the cold sheet over her chest. Gathering her breath, she let eyes open, but saw nothing. Black. She reached up and felt bandages over her eyes and relaxed a little. It wasn’t a permanent blindness, she didn’t think. A sense of amnesia hit her confused brain. Was she still who she thought she was?

 Suddenly she had the distinct feeling that there was someone next to her; at her right. She lifted her head from the pillow and tried to talk.

 “Who is there?” she asked with a cracked voice. Her throat was raw from the breathing tube.

 She heard nothing. There had to be someone there! She felt it! The air was thick with the presence of another body.

 “Please, just speak to me. I want to know what has happened. Don’t make me feel like I’m going crazy!” She grabbed at her throat, the pain was nearly unbearable but she had to talk. She had to feel herself live.

 The creak of leather coming from somewhere, someone, nearby, was the only sound she heard. Panic once again filled her with dread.

 “Who are you?” she asked and she tried to sit up. An acute jab shot up her left arm and she cried out, falling weakly into the bed. She began to grit her teeth, tears of pain filling her eyes. The saline from the water burned terribly and she wanted nothing more than to tear off the bandages and wipe the warmth out of her itching eyes.

 “I’m in a lot of pain right now, just so you know. So, I’m begging you to tell me what has happen to me,” her weak voice quivered.  

 “You’ve been brought to this hospital due to the trauma you’ve suffered. You were shot several times,” a voice answered. It was a sound unlike any she had ever heard in her life and it echoed through her ears; dark, soft, and thick with a gravelling. There was a touch of seduction but also cold and distant. It was obvious the owner of the vocals was not human.

 Mya shrank down into the thin sheet, trembling from both the pain and the cold of the room. She heard footsteps, a door open and close, then felt something soft dropping over her body. A blanket. She sighed and relaxed.

 “Thank you. Who are you?” she turned her head in the direction of the noise.

 “I am, in a sense, your bodyguard. I have been hired by the Citadel Council to protect you,” the dark voice answered.

 Her brow furrowed with confusion as she tried to remember everything that had happened. The amnesia that clouded her thought process kept her from diving too deeply into her memory banks.

 “Wh-what? Protect me from what exactly?” Bits and pieces of her memory began to come together.

 The smell of gunpowder, the bright flashes from the barrels of fired guns, blue and white painted armor…

 “Those who wish you dead, who want to take what has become precious to you.”

 Panic sat in her gut and she reached for her throat. The chain was gone! She began to scratch the skin of her neck red in desperation and found that she suddenly couldn’t breathe.

 “The Element! Where is it?” She jerked when she felt her hand being lifted but found air again as a small, sharp-edged object was placed in her palm. The cold chain slinked around her fingers just as she closed them around the datacube. She sighed and relaxed then placed her fist to her heart.

 “Have you any idea what this small thing means to me? This is my life. This is years of blood, sweat and tears.”

 “That small thing is the reason you are here. Someone found out about your experiment and what value it possibly holds for the galaxy. You nearly died.”

 Mya recalled more images of the men in the armor firing large guns, Nareid screaming at her to run for her life, the taste of blood choking her. She placed a hand over her abdomen, remembering the gaping hole.

 “Where am I?” she asked quietly. “Am I still in New York?”

 “Illium. Nos Astra to be exact.”

 She gasped in disbelief. Did she have to be taken so far away from her home? How did she even survive the trip? There were too many questions flooding her mind and she found it painful to focus on just one.

 “Why Illium?” she croaked weakly.

 “Because the best surgeon in the galaxy lives here.”

 “How extensive was the damage?” More salty, burning tears brought on the nearly obsessive need to scratch her eyes. She balled up her fists into the blanket and attempted to control her emotions. She wouldn’t, no couldn’t, let this stranger, whoever they may be, see her cry. She was vulnerable enough.

 “Your left arm had to be reconstructed, your left lung was punctured, and your small intestine was torn in several places. Both of those organs had to be replaced with cloned copies. You’ve also been shot in the head, right leg, and shoulders.”

 Mya shuttered from the report, a wave of nausea building in her guts. She felt her lower lip tremble and she fought to keep her composure.

 “I was shot in the head?” she whispered as she touched the scar at her temple.

 “The damage there wasn’t as fatal as the shots to your abdomen were. However, Dr. T’Sara did run into a slight issue.”

 She perked up, oddly enough and felt the cloud in her memory beginning to dissipate. Before she got a chance to ask just what that issue was she was given her answer.  

 “Your brain began to heal itself but the rest of your body began to die.”

 “That is not possible. Brain tissue is irreparable,” she whispered rather quietly.

 “It was discovered that your biotic abilities were protecting your brain and not allowing the rest of your body to heal. A prototype amplifying chip had to be installed in order for the tissue to begin growing normally.”

 She shook her head and suddenly became angry. This had to be a dream, she reasoned with the confusion. There was no other explanation. Nothing this stranger was saying was making a bit of sense!

 “I’m not biotic,” she laughed coldly.

 “You very much are,” the voice answered firmly.

 “I was tested as a child. All human children are upon birth and it was never detected. I-I want the chip removed!” Her hands reached for the long scar at her temple, fingers trembling as she touched the thin microfilament stitching against her skin. She could barely feel a pair of remarkably warm hands grab at her wrists and gently pull them away from the wound.

 “If it is removed, you will die. As for your ability, it is not caused by tumors in the brain, as most human conditions are recorded as stemming from. It _is_ your brain. Your ability seems to be similar to the biotic capabilities of the Asari. That is why it started to repair itself. Your body began to reject the stem-cell implants at first until T’Sara installed the chip. It is regulating your body to normality. It also will allow you to utilize your biotics into a tangible power.”

 Mya sank into her pillows weakened and very afraid. She clutched to her hands under the blankets and felt a surge of anxiety pull in her lungs. The new lung began to spasm and she gasped for air. She fought the claustrophobic-feeling attack as hard as she could but was unable escape the constant nagging onslaught of dread and fear.

 Heavy boot steps thumped over her ringing ears. There was cold at her neck then a faint pinch from a hypo being pressed into her skin. A rush of narcotics blanketed over the anxiety attack and her breathing eased. She sunk deep into the bed, the pillow caressing her numbed lips.

 “Where is this Dr. T’Sara?” she finally spoke after air filled her lungs.

 “She is not in the hospital at the moment.”

 Mya grit her teeth as a surge of anger took over.

 “You tell her I demand to speak to her,” she turned blindly towards the voice.

 There was another creak of leather as her stranger companion sat down.

 “As you wish, Doctor.”

 There was a long moment of silence before her curiosity made her speak up again.

 “What is your name?” her voice was weak and weary.

 “Deylos Krios,” the dark voice replied gently.

 With a faint nod, she felt her eyes beneath the damp gauze shut. She drifted off to sleep with the name of her protective company painted across the blank slate of her mind.

 O . . . O . . . O

 She opened her eyes and, after a few seconds of allowing reality to set in, realized the bandages were gone.

 And she could see! Really see!

 Her sight had changed drastically. Every color seemed to pop with an aura-like spectrum and surrounded everything in her line of vision. Surfaces were immediately brought to her no matter how far away she focused. The only way she could describe what she was seeing was similar to looking through a sun-lit prism and binoculars all at once. Details she had never thought of before, the microscopic holes in the walls, the cracks and scratches in the metal frame of the bed, danced before her. She began to laugh, almost bitterly. She looked down at her hands and saw the tiny blood vessels pumping away under her skin and she laughed harder.

 The door opened and in walked an asari garbed in tight black clothing with a neatly tailored white lab coat gracing her torso. Her skin was a soft cerulean tone and distinctive violet tattoos on her forehead and cheeks. She regarded the human with an arrogant smirk and crossed her arms over her chest.

 “Well, well, the goodly human physicist demands to see me, I understand,” she spoke, her voice sharp and cold.

 Mya felt her brow lower over her eyes as she looked at Dr. Lera T’Sara. There was an unspoken challenge suddenly rising between her and the asari. She immediately didn’t like her.

 “I do,” she responded.

 “I understand that you’re not pleased with what I’ve been able to accomplish, despite the fact that I labored on your bloody pulp of a body for hours just to get you back to some semblance of working function.”

 Mya flinched and blinked in slight shock and insult. No one had ever spoken so disrespectfully to her, especially when it came to her very existence.

 “Oh, so sorry I troubled you with saving my life! It’s not like I had a choice in the matter,” she spat venomously.

 Lera snorted and laughed a brilliant noise that would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t tinged with utter sarcasm and arrogance.

 “I didn’t save your life, Dr. Matthews. I was called upon to stop your stupid mutant brain from eating away what life you had left.”

 “Mutant?!” Mya flinched. Lera nodded and threw her the datapad on the end of the bed with the all the vitals and procedures that had been done since her stay in the hospital.

 “Your DNA is mutating as we speak. I guess you can consider yourself a new species of human, like this galaxy needs another,” she grumbled. “Although, as you can see, it is quite fascinating in terms of xenogenetics; the double helix bonds shift almost immediately upon your will. In simple terms, you’re a freak of nature. You could possibly be the most powerful biotic in the galaxy and never had known it. But now, thanks to me, you can utilize your talents.”

 Mya glared at the asari, her eyes flashing a glowing blue. Her lips pulled tightly against her teeth.

 “So that means I can throw you out of here with a flick of my wrist then?” the human snarled darkly. Lera shrugged absently and pursed her painted lips.

 “You could flay the skin from my bones if you wanted, but I ask that you not. I like living at the moment.

 “Well,” she sighed, “since I’m here, I suppose I could check you over and make sure everything is healing.”

 She approached Mya and opened her omnitool to scan her vital signs.

Mya fell back on her pillow in disgust. She waited as the asari checked her newly grown organs and her left arm, noticing the huge long scar that marred her left forearm. There were several clear microfilament staples keeping her skin closed and she felt herself growing sick. She remembered what the dark voice told her yesterday that her left arm had been nearly blown off. Quickly, she turned her head and reached for a metal pan she had seen on the bedside stand, emptying her stomach’s contents into the vessel. She gagged and felt her eyes burn with tears. After the somewhat embarrassing incident had ended, she wiped her nose with the edge of her bed sheet and regained her breath.

 “My god, what have I done?” she whispered in horror. Lera watched her without emotion as she placed the pan back on the stand.

 “You vomited,” she replied bluntly and the human threw her a cold glance. She closed her omnitool and threw the blankets off her legs to check her healing wounds.

 Mya saw her knobby knees, with unnaturally pale skin and looking horrifically frail, and again felt sick. Her body had become a shell through years of neglect, broken and barely alive.

 Lera, satisfied with the human’s recovery, nodded to herself and pulled the sheets back over the thin white legs.

 “You’re going to be very weak and probably unable to walk for a while, but we’ll get you started on physical therapy tomorrow. I suggest you not try to walk on your own. It’ll hurt.”

 “Yeah, just like everything else,” Mya muttered.

 “Oh, aren’t you a happy one! If you need a nurse the call button is on the holoset remote. And you also have Krios to wait on you, lucky girl,” Lera grinned secretly.

 Mya looked at the doctor and immediately saw the name that haunted her troubled dreams.

 “Krios. He was here when last I was awake. He said he was my bodyguard and the Citadel hired him to protect me.”

 “Correct,” Lera mused as she checked the cabinets for supplies. “Most likely he will visit with you later now that your vision is back. You’ll want to see him, I suppose. Nice to look at, that one is,” she grinned wryly.

 “Who is he, really?” Mya asked with curiosity.

 Lera’s brow rose on her forehead, crinkling the purple tattoos as her smile grew.

 “Krios is a drell from Kahje and one hell of a piece of work. He’s a private contractor agent, and he’s the best of the best of the best. He doesn’t come cheap, either. So you must be a very special little scientist, Doctor!”

 Mya searched her mind but at the moment couldn’t come up with a mental image of a drell. She had never met one but had heard stories, tales of beautiful, colorful skin, lips of satin, and eyes as black as obsidian. They were mostly from girly giggles over romance novels during her college days where her friends would sneak digital copies into the dormitory and gushed daydreams. Mya was never interested in romantic stories and rarely found herself curious to dive into fantasies of unrealistic prospects of love.

 “When can I meet with him?” she asked calmly.

 “Later. He is currently busy and out of the hospital but I’ll let him know you’re awake and quite eager to talk,” Lera added sarcastically. She grabbed the steel pan and threw into a sink to clean out the contents. Mya felt a tiny smile curl on her lips. The doctor wasn’t above touching expelled waste. She curled into a ball and sighed, feeling her left arm pinch.

 “I don’t want his services,” she said sadly.

 Lera turned on her heels and laughed.

 “You have no choice, Dr. Matthews. You’ve made yourself a victim of the greed of this Goddess-forsaken galaxy so you now have a plus-one to watch your back. Congratulations.”

 Mya grabbed the datacube at her neck and felt her throat clench as she tried to choke back her tears. The asari, she thought with a touch of disgust, was right. She unintentionally put her life in jeopardy because she was curious. Although, once upon a time, her curiosities rarely ever turned to obsessions, but it is exactly what happened to her. She felt like screaming until she could no longer make any sound. When she heard the door behind her close she sat up to sob loudly into her hands.

 “Why couldn’t I have just died?” she whispered, hating the thing she made herself become.

 O . . . O . . . O

 Dr. T’Sara said not to walk. But after hours of suffering a dry throat from the vomiting and sobbing she was desperate for a drop of water. She looked out her window and saw the sun beginning to set, ignoring the beauty that was Nos Astra. The sheets were flung off her weak legs, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her mind was resolute and her need was thick. She looked up at the sink, not too far from her she estimated in her mind, and nodded.

 “Okay,” she whispered, “I can do this.”

 She felt the cool floor on her bared toes and began to place weight on her legs. The pain, unlike anything she had ever experienced, immediately shot up her bones and she gasped. She felt faint and nearly dropped.

 _No,_ she told herself. _This isn’t happening to me! I can walk, I know I can! Screw T’Sara!_

 Her legs began to shake and the intensity grew as she scooted her feet forward. She barely made it a foot away from the bed but she tried to move her feet again.

_Come on, you weak bitch! How hard can it be?_

 The third step caused her to tumble to the floor, trembling in both pain and anger. She weakly pounded her fist to the tiles and groaned.

 It wasn’t fair.

 The door slid open followed by thick footsteps coming towards her. Her long brown hair veiled her eyes and she decided not to look up, shamed that a nurse might scold her for stubbornness. Arms slipped under her body and lifted her gently into a tight hold. The smell of oiled leather and spice filled her nose. She was softly deposited back onto the bed where she instinctively curled into a ball, drying her wet eyes into the pillow.

 “Are you alright, Doctor?” said the same black velvet voice she heard before while blinded by the bandages.

 She glared inwardly to herself and felt her legs spasm.

 “No! I just, I wanted,” she stuttered and sighed weakly. “I only wanted a glass of water.”

 The sound of liquid being poured from the faucet barely caught her attention while she sniffled, but the soft clink of a glass on the table made her look up. She went to grab for it and push herself up, her left arm aching from the pressure, and was about to thank her company for the offering but couldn’t find her voice when she finally looked upon him.

 The tall creature before her was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen, and she realized why her college roommates would squeal over the romance novels involving human women and drell. Her eyes skipped over his face, iridescent green scales blended into the striated red at his neck and jaws. Jagged black stripes streamed from the frills down his cheeks and barbed crests peaked over his skull. She found herself staring into his eyes, rich pools of India ink enhanced by dark grey eyelids, before she focused down on his lips.

  _Nice mouth_ , she considered. _Plush, pouty_ …

 He wore neck to toe grey and black leather, skin tight over his lean muscles leaving little to her imagination. A long trench coat swept down to his ankles. Brass shoulder plates like the claws of some bird of prey grabbed at his arms and a wide silver torc swept over his collarbone. He wore a low slung holster belt which hinted at his groin and hid the SMG he always kept at his hip.

 She dropped her gaze and went for her water, unable to look the drell in his eyes.

 “Thank you,” she said softly when she had found her voice and sipped lightly. The water was as sweet as honey to her dry tongue.

 “You’re quite welcome. May I ask why you dared to injure yourself further? There were plenty of nurses or even myself who would’ve happily waited on you.”

 She felt the dark voice waft over her like raw silk, unrefined in sound yet ridiculously delicious to her ears. For two years she never once allowed sex to enter her brain. Time was precious and any that was wasted was time she could never get back. Therefore she focused every bit of energy on the Element. But as her newly enhanced eyes looked at the tall male alien in the leather armor she found herself suddenly inundated by erotic daydreams. She cleared her throat and took another sip of water, using her thirst as an excuse not to look him.

 “I didn’t want to bother anyone,” she muttered.

 “Dr. T’Sara specifically told you to not put any weight on your legs until you were to begin physical therapy. Do you not remember?” he asked and Mya felt her mind switch from her fantasies with this man to suddenly being annoyed.

 Of course, she remembered the arrogant asari’s orders! She stole a stare at the drell and sensed a rich pride about him, an arrogance that matched hers.

 “Yes, I remember. I also remember that I used to be able to walk!” her voice snapped angrily.

 The drell blinked his dark eyes and Mya saw traces of the dark gemstone teal in his irises within the black.

 “Dr. Matthews, you’ve been bedfast for over three weeks. It will take time for you to recover,” he reported and Mya’s face fell open in shock.

 She reached for the datapad at the foot of her bed which the drell politely handed to her. She didn’t know how she missed it before but, sure enough, there was the date. A startling weakness began to envelop her.

 “Oh, oh god.” She threw the pad to the floor and felt lost for words. Once again she dared to peer down at her left arm. The long scar with the clear staples was a hard reminder that she had nearly died. Tears started to crest her eyes but she quickly sniffed them back and held her chin high.

 “I should’ve just been left to die,” she said when she found her voice.

 The drell sauntered the width of the room and sat in the chair next to the bed, crossing his spat-booted ankles.

 “Why do you feel that way?” he asked kindly and the polite tone in his voice angered her further.

 Her eyes narrowed. “Are you a therapist as well as a bodyguard?”

 “If that is the role I must play,” he shrugged his shielded shoulders.

 She snorted in derision and shook her head.

 “I’ve been comatose for three fucking weeks! And for what?! So I could wake up to discover that my whole world has crashed around me?! ”

 The room was suddenly too quiet and uncomfortable.

 “Who knew what I was doing? My experiment was secret. Only my partner and I knew of it, and he’s now dead! My god; Nareid… He’s dead,” her voice trailed away when reality sank deep into her soul.

 “Dr. Solus contacted the Citadel Council and alerted them that he feared for your life. He sensed that someone else knew what you two were working on. My company was contacted and sent me to watch over you. I was ordered to take you away from Earth once you discovered the Element. But, I’m afraid, someone was one step ahead and I was almost too late. I am sorry that you had to lose Dr. Solus. He sacrificed himself to keep you alive.”

 Mya felt overwhelmed by the new information. Why did Nareid feel it necessary to let the Council know of the experiment?

 “How long are you going to be around?” she asked without looking at him.

 “I cannot say. I take orders from the Council.”

 “And I have no say in the matter, whether I want you here or not?” She finally regarded him and saw that his face was impassive.

 “I’m afraid not. But you should be happy to have me around.”

 “Is that a fact?”

 “You really have no clue who I am, do you?” his black eyes narrowed.

 “Should I?”

 “I am the top agent for the security firm Kahje Alert Teams, owned by my father Kolyat Krios. I specialize in just about everything, including infiltration, private investigating, search and rescue or destroy, or even the occasional removal of a threat. When someone hires me I go to the full extent that I am capable of to get the job done. I’m very good at what I do, Dr. Matthews. I’m not just some living shield who would take bullets to keep you safe. In fact, and I’ve already thought this through, I’m also going to teach you how to defend yourself in dangerous situations which is bound to happen before this is all over.”

 “You’re rather humble about your abilities, Krios,” she sneered. She heard a chuckle rise from the red throat and found herself once again briefly daydreaming about lustful acts with him. She mentally berated herself for becoming human again.

 “One could say the same to you, Mya Matthews, PhD. Rumors were circling the extranet that you have been up for the Nobel Prize for Physics twice only to be beaten by a man who knows another man, and so on. You know what your mind is capable of, and I feel the same way about me. I consider myself to be quite humble under most circumstances, but I’m also honest.”

 “So, then; here we are. I guess I learn to tolerate your presence,” she murmured.

 A strange huffing sound came from Krios’ long, thin nose. His brilliant white teeth flashed from beneath his full lips, and he stood from his seat.

 “Indeed! But, may I remind you, I am a very fast learner,” he purred in an almost sensual tone then started for the door. “I will greet you in the morning to ready you for your therapy. I would be prepared, Doctor. The staff here are not the most merciful hearts when it comes to pain.”

 The door closed and Mya felt utter distaste for the drell agent consume her. She grabbed the datacube at her neck. It was cold and the corners cut into her palm with acute jabs. She would soon become all too accustomed to pain.

 

 


	4. Training

Chapter 4: Training

“I’ve seen it before, it happens all the time, you’re closing the door and leave the world behind.”  Cold As Ice, Foreigner 1977

 

 Mya blinked her eyes awake to the sound of the door to her room opening and she weakly pushed herself up, dark circles under her grey eyes after suffering a long night of bad dreams.  She watched as an asari wheeled in a tray of food followed by the drell who had traded the leather for lightweight athletic wear.  She immediately noticed the thick, dark green striping that twisted down his muscled arms, along with a patch of red segmented skin at the inner joint of his elbows.

 The nurse smiled as she adjusted the tray to reveal a rich porridge with what resembled blue raspberries topping the cereal.  Mya shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, hating her body.  Two years of ignoring what she had been doing to it and suddenly she noticed the lack of what strength she once possessed.  She actually began to miss the comforts the old, baggy lab coats gave her.

 She watched him throw a tee shirt and a pair of grey heather shorts on the foot of her bed then step back, quietly talking with the nurse while she curiously poked her breakfast.  With caution, she tasted the creamy dish and, upon realizing just how hungry she was, immediately ate the entire bowl.  She couldn’t remember the last time she was so famished, starved.  After she finished, she pushed the tray away and looked up at the drell, her grey eyes cold as ice.

Deylos felt his soul shudder as he noticed those frigid irises glaring at him, locked on his own returned stare.  Physically, she may not have been much at the moment, but he saw power in her, and it was a dangerous power.  It frightened him as much as it intrigued him.  He walked out of the room without a word and allowed the nurse to dress her into the gym clothes.

 Outside the room he leaned against the wall and waited.  Lera approached and grinned wickedly.

 “Taking the high and mighty scientist down to the gym for a little workout?” she snorted through a laugh.

 Deylos raised his right brow plate at the asari.  He never really liked her much.  Tolerate was a more accurate way to describe his relationship with her.  If it wasn’t for the fact that he considered her useful for certain circumstances he wouldn’t have wanted to cross paths with her for the remainder of his existence.

 “You said she’s physically stabile, so I decided the sooner to get her feet back on the ground the better,” he explained.

 Lera nodded and leaned on the wall next to him. “She’s a bitch, in more ways than one.  A damn complex brain, especially for a human, and it shows by the way her neurons are so tangled together.  But she’s a hateful little thing.  You got your work cut out for you, Krios.  I almost pity you!”

“You have no pity for anyone, T’Sara,” he shrugged.

 Lera smirked to herself. “That’s not true; I just view most of the idiots I cross in my life as merely lower forms of sentience that tend to get in my way.  It’s the little anomalies I find myself fascinated with.  Speaking of the unusual, you look like you got some extra decoration put on you.  Nice earrings.”

 “A gift from Dal’Xira vas Rukkir,” he shrugged and tugged on the two thick rings pierced in his left frill.  “I felt a bit of an obligation to keep them in.”

 “How sweet.” Lera’s lips curled sardonically.  “How many hearts have you broken in your life, because I’m sure the poor quarian girl who made those for you is sobbing her glowing white eyes out right now?”

“She wasn’t in love with me,” he grumbled and dropped his hand, shoving it in a pocket.

 “So, she simply asked you to withstand a fair amount of pain so she could throw a pair of what appears to be mementos of affection into a rather sensitive part of your face, and you, being the idiot I so adore you for, thought that it was some kind of platonic gesture on her part .  I don’t think I’m wrong in assuming that there was a moment or several where you got to experience her without her envirosuit.”

 Deylos looked down at Lera, lips curled into a sneer, and shook his head in disbelief for her assumption. He would beg Kalahira to damn him to the Abyss before he revealed any bit of his personal life to her.

 “Hey, if I had the chance to snag a drell as a lover, you better believe I’d be hitchhiking my ass onto the first ship bound for Kahje.  Your people are a rare race in the galaxy, albeit growing in numbers thanks to the nanite serum the salarians came up with for Keprals, and not to mention I haven’t met an ugly drell.  You, in particular, are rather pleasant to look at,” she laughed.

 “If you are finished harassing me, I do have work to do,” he sighed in annoyance.

 She grinned cheekily and walked towards her office. “For now; let me know her progress, okay?  Any indications of biotic ability showing up I want to know immediately.”

 Deylos gave her a mock salute and walked back into the room. Mya sat on the edge of her bed dressed in the gym clothes. The garments were hanging off her thin body.  She looked up at the drell with the same cold expression and watched him take a pair of crutches from the nurse.  He walked towards her, but she immediately flinched away as he tried to help her stand.  Deylos’ brow lowered over his dark eyes in warning.

 “If we’re going to get you healthier, Doctor, I must be allowed to touch you,” he informed.

 Mya clenched her teeth tightly behind her thinned lips, her jaw line tight, but she loosened her arms around her waist to allow him to lift her.  She felt the thick arms encircle her waist as he steadied her then placed the crutches under her arms. Horrible pain shot up her legs the second she put pressure on them.  Her eyes clenched shut to keep the tears from breaching and she puffed hot air from her pursed lips.

She couldn’t quite recall how she got down to the gym but she remembered every step feeling like glass was digging into her feet.  The nurse steadied her as Deylos took the crutches and led her towards a leg machine, putting the weights on the lightest line.  Mya sat down and was helped with adjusting her legs to operate the weight.

The first repetition began; her muscles, weakened from the lack of use and frailty, burned.  Cold sweat began to form on her brow.  The nurse asked her to perform a few reps but each try lessened to little more than a faint movement from her leg.  Nearly exhausted and aggravated, she gripped the seat and watched the small weight drop with a soft clang back down to start.    

“Dr. Matthews,” the nurse spoke gently, “we should try the walkway,” she pointed to a raised platform with rails on both sides.

 Mya snorted angrily and pushed herself to stand, muscles and bones protesting painfully in her body.  She looked up at the drell and saw the disapproving glance he gave her, and it gave her enough of an incentive to prove him wrong.

 “No.  Let me walk alone,” she growled.

 The thick brow plates over the large black eyes rose; it was the only indication that he was paying attention to her in that moment.

“I would suggest otherwise,” he spoke.  “You haven’t the strength to walk alone as of yet.”  Mya pushed herself away from the weight machine and grimaced in pain as she took a step towards him in a pigeon-toed fashion.

 “Watch me!” she glared and took another step, her voice catching in her throat as the pain deepened.  The nurse reached for her again and Mya drew back her hand.

 she warned loudly a touch of blue glowing from her eyes.

The nurse recoiled and stepped away.  Mya looked back at the drell and felt hot tears drip down her face as she took another step.  The pain, completely unbearable at that point, caused her to fall to the matted floors.  She panted angrily and pushed herself up to sit on her heels, her eyes puffy from the unwanted tears dripping down her chin.  With a defiant tilt of her chin, she wiped her face dry and stared down at her knobby knees still shaking from the exertion.

 “How long until I’m able to walk?” she asked calmly.

 “A few days,” was her answer from the nurse.

 Mya turned her eyes to the drell, challenging him.“When can I be back to normal?”

“I cannot say for certain,” he answered ambiguously.

“Estimate, damnit!” she yelled, and her voice echoed in the gym like distant thunder roll.

The drell crossed his arm over his chest and sighed through his long nose.  She was irritating, that was for sure, but he also understood her frustration.  Stubbornness was a good indication that patience wasn’t likely to be found when one was found in difficult situations.

“Just as she said, a few days to get you walking.” He nodded to the nurse who hovered close to her side.  “After that, the next step is to get your body back into shape.  That could take a few weeks.  As far as you should be concerned, Doctor, you need to learn some patience.  Even before you were nearly killed your body was starting to diminish.  You’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he turned away.

 Mya felt like screaming but instead sat on the cold, unforgiving floor shaking her head and hating the fact that he was right.  The nurse helped her to stand, handing her the crutches, and she was thankful for them.  She was helped up to her room and gently placed her back into the bed.  For a moment she studied the nurse and suddenly found that she was curious about the quiet and kind asari.

 “He’s a real asshole, isn’t he?” Mya muttered as she watched her shoes being removed.

 The nurse smiled and shrugged. “I suppose so, but I think it’s because he is concerned for you.  We all are.”

“Concern!” she spat with venom. “Why would you or that pompous green bastard have any concern for me?  It’s because I’m a freak to you, isn’t it?”

 The nurse covered her legs with a blanket and sighed to herself.

“I won’t lie; there is a lot of curiosity among those who are privileged to care for you.  Although, Sere Krios asked that your identity be kept secret from most for fear that your attackers would track you to this place.  If there isn’t anything else you need, I’ll inform Dr. T’Sara that you’ve finished your physical therapy for the day,” she headed for the door.

 

Mya’s relief was replaced with irritation when the nurse left only to be replaced by Deylos.  She laughed bitterly and shook her head.

“Amazing!  It’s like I’m your hostage or something.  What now?”

 The bodyguard leaned against the wall and stared at her almost analyzing. “Your will to drive yourself is admirable, Dr. Matthews, but I don’t need you to harm yourself in the process of getting you well.  I need you to follow my direction.”

“Follow your direction, huh?  I don’t remember asking for someone to teach me how to fight.  The easiest way out of this is either I disappear or I die.  Dying would’ve been plausible a month ago,” she glared angrily.

“According to Dr. Solus’ reports the Element can possibly be weaponized.  Have you any idea what would happen to the Citadel Council, to the civilization of this galaxy if it were to fall into the wrong hands?  I shouldn’t have to hypothesize for you because I can see the horror of the idea in your eyes.  That cannot happen; and for it not to, you have to be here, able to defend your discovery both physically and mentally.

 “As for letting you just disappear that is not possible either.  Someone out there has the evidence of the Element’s existence and will not stop hunting you down until you have been found.  Gods only know what they would do to you.”

 Mya felt weaker than before and dropped her head into her pillow to keep from looking at him.  Her legs still shook from the exertion she had placed on them.

 “Despite my instinct to immediately disregard anything you say, I will agree to your terms.  For now.”

 “For now,” he snorted in derision to himself. “Very well.  I shall take ‘for now’. Good day, Matthews.”

For the next two days things went almost identical according to some schedule unknown to Mya.  She was woke in the mornings by the same nurse and Deylos, still in athletic gear, and fed breakfast before being toted down to the gym and forced to cause pain to her upper and lower extremities, leaving moments later exhausted, irritated, and sore.  But, much to her surprise, by day three she was walking down to the gym on her own.  That morning, instead of being placed on weight machines, Deylos had her on the treadmill starting on a slow pace.  She looked down at her weak legs and felt a self-pity rising in her stomach.

 Once upon a time Mya was thirty pounds heavier with an hourglass figure often kept hidden under her white lab coat and thick, shapeless sweaters.  Her bronze brown hair had grown past her buttocks but was always kept into a tight, high ponytail.  She had a lovely face, sweet and meant to reflect kindness and joy. But after her search for the Element began, the purpose for her features went hidden.  Few people ever knew what Mya really looked like and those who did wondered why in the hell she hid under such a shield.

 At that moment, as she stared at the bony knees and the sick, pallid tone her skin now showed, she suddenly missed the curvy hips and the large bust she often despised.

 What must I look like to the asari here?  Do they pity me?  What does the drell see, a weak human?  Damn them all!  She felt her anger rise and her pace quickened.

“Slow down, Doctor.  We’re not ready for you to start going faster,” the drell warned and he shut off the treadmill.

 Mya turned toward him with anger in her eyes.“I am.  Turn it back on,” she said coldly.

“You must rest,” he argued calmly.

“I don’t want to rest! I want to keep working because that’s what I do!  Give me the fucking leg machine or the bicep curls!  I am not ready to go up to that bed and lay there wallowing in my self pity!”

 She watched him restrain his anger, an admirable trait that she was sure that a very select few were capable of doing.

“Very well,” he walked towards the back of the room and pulled down a metal bar.   “Do a pull up and we’ll continue to do what you want, which is, apparently, destroy yourself further.”

 Mya looked at the bar then at him in disbelief. “Wh-what?”

 “You’ve heard me.  Let’s go!” she heard a growl in his voice.

 Shooting him a stubborn regard, she grabbed the bar and let her weight fall.  The action was horrendously painful.  She struggled to pull herself up, even by an inch, but her arms refused to allow any bit of her weight up, and she hung from the bar like a rag doll.  Her face flushed blood red as she tried again, arms quivering from the strain.  She cried out in spite of herself and dropped to the floor, moaning in pain.

“Well, what do you know; I think I just proved you wrong, didn’t I?  Time to go back to your room and rest,” the drell walked away from her.

 Mya lay on the floor in near tears.

“Fuck you!” she whispered as she curled into a tight ball.  She felt the arms of the nurse lift her and support her as they walked back to the elevator.  Thankfully, the asari kept her mouth shut.

 Another two weeks passed and Mya grew stronger, the weight beginning to come back along with toned muscles she never knew existed in her.  The asari fed her a high protein high fat diet to keep her new body from losing what she began to rapidly gain.  The physical therapy sessions became more intensive and longer.  She went from simple treadmill and weight-lifting exercises to cardiovascular calisthenics and punching bag sparring.  She silently marveled at what her body was able to do.  The pain in her bones faded as she gained bruises and bumps from punching and kicking the bag.  The shallow breathing in her lungs deepened, and she went from simply walking on the treadmill to a fast, heart-pounding run.

The only thing that didn’t change was the way the drell treated her.  And it irritated her to no end.  He barely spoke to her and when he did it was to direct her to another task.  He was neither cruel nor kind to her, emotionless.  The constant blank attitude from him had grated on her nerves long enough.

She was at the punching bag when she felt her irritation reach the breaking point.  Pummeling away at the canvas wall, her knuckles began to burn as she continued to punch harder and harder with each throw, and she imagined his face on the bag.  She could hear him begin to grunt from her blows in an attempt to hold the bag still.  It fueled her frustration.

“Enough, Doctor,” the drell spoke.

 Mya glared at the side of the bag speckled with bits of tape and decided to ignore his command.  She punched again, harder.  Her knuckles began to crack under the protection of the tape; the wetness of her blood crept between her fingers.  The pain only added to her aggravation and drove her on.

 “I said enough!” his voice darkened.

 With a loud cry, Mya spun on her heels and lifted her leg to kick the bag with an abrupt blow, causing the agent to back away.

He regarded the human and noticed that her blue eyes were glowing from the inside.  Sweat poured off her toned, curved body.  She had changed so dramatically in the few weeks during her stay in the hospital that he barely recognized her from the frail thing he carried away from the University.

 She met his stare with her unusually glowing eyes but quickly turned away, wiping the sweat from her brow with a flick of her hand.

“That’ll do for the day,” he spoke and began to clean up the equipment they had used.

 The human spun around quickly, her face a mask of anger.

 “That’s it, asshole!  I can’t take this anymore!” she shouted.  “‘Do this, do that, stop and go do this!’  Well, fuck you!  When do I get a chance to decide when I should stop or when I should continue?”

 The Deylos sighed but stood resolute next to the punching bag.

“Is this ‘for now’, Dr. Matthews?  Are you saying that you feel completely capable of taking care of yourself?  Need I remind you that only a few weeks ago you were barely alive even before you were gunned down?”

 Mya felt her muscles tense in her body and her blood began to burn with a new sensation.  She never noticed the bright blue sparks that were beginning to snap off her skin.  The azure glow in her eyes flashed violet.

“You smug prick! How dare you use my words against me when you know I was in pain in that moment! You expect me to go back up to that prison cell of a hospital room?!  You must be some kind of sadist, enjoying the fact that you’re torturing me!”

“I am not torturing you, Doctor.  I am trying to help you,” he spoke calmly, but the frustration he was feeling reflected in his dark eyes.

 The biotic energy began to form into visible lines and waves up and down her arms.  She didn’t seem to notice the sudden transformation her body began to take on.  Any bits of loosened hair rose high and out from her scalp due to the static charge.  Her skin prickled and dimpled; muscles contracted and bulged.  With a loud cry she thrust out her right fist towards the punching bag.  A bubble of brilliant blue energy engulfed her fist as she made contact with the bag and a loud sonic warp echoed in the room.

 Having the good foresight to know what was about to happen, Deylos dropped to his knees and curled into a tight ball as the bag exploded, a cloud of sand raining inside the gym.  When he looked up the human was standing still, staring at her hand in disbelief.  The blue biotic fire had dissipated and left her loudly gasping for breath.

“Wh-what just happened to me?” she asked in a frightened voice.

“Your biotics have been jump-started,” he explained as he stood and brushed the sand off his clothes.

“That’s what I have inside me?” she whispered and took a step back from him.

 He nodded solemnly, a faint tinge of a smile on his full lips. “That is only a taste of what you have, Dr. Matthews.  Your power is, according to Dr. T’Sara, off the scales.  She was wondering when you would find it.”

 Mya continued to stare at her hand, clenching and unclenching it as she felt the power begin to dissipate back into her muscles and bones.  The feel of the release, the surge of energy and electricity that burst forth from her knuckles, was bordering on orgasmic.  It was instantly addictive and she wondered if she would ever feel that strong of a rush ever again.

 “It was the anger, wasn’t it?  It was my frustration that unleashed it,” she murmured.

 “Yes.  Anger is the top catalyst in firing up biotics for the first time.  Fear can be utilized but not often recommended as it keeps the adept from learning quicker.  Meditation is another, more positive, form of channeling the effect, but, all things considered, I don’t think that process would’ve been easily accepted by you.  No offense, mind you.”

 “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life,” she murmured.

 “Few ever do.  My ability is insignificant compared to yours,” he admitted openly.

 Mya looked up at the drell and he was amazed that the cold glare wasn’t as harsh. “You’re a biotic as well?” she asked curiously.

 He nodded and lifted his left hand.  A soft blue glow began to twist and flow from his wrist and wrap leisurely around his fist for a few minutes before clenching his fist to extinguish the energy.

Mya felt her lips twitch but she kept the smile from forming completely.  Her curiosity got the better of her and she decided if she could indeed summon the power back.  Pointing her arm towards the pull up bar, where she once felt defeated, she concentrated on targeting the object. The raw feeling of untamed electricity, like a thick drug, began to snake through her veins, giving her, once again, that same, nearly-erotic sense of power.  Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted.  With a low sigh she released the built-up energy and watched it shoot through the air towards the bar. The blue fire engulfed the piece of gym equipment with such high heat that the metal began to glow a brilliant reddish orange.

Satisfied with her ability, she grit her teeth and forced the power back. Deylos stared at the small amount of damage she had openly caused and forced his slacked jaw shut.  The bar drooped into a low-hanging bow, hissing loudly as it cooled.

Mya stood up and walked toward the elevator.

“That’s one pull up, right?” she said in a snarkey tone.

 O . . . O . . . O

He stood in the center of the holographic transmitting dais and waited for his call to make contact with the other side.  Seconds later, he came face to face with the Shadow Broker and he smiled a crooked grin at his most trusted contact.  The Broker nodded to him, blue eyes meeting the drell’s deep peacock green.

“Hello, again, Raptor.  I see you’ve made a temporary residence in Nos Astra.”

Deylos shrugged nonchalantly as he put on his best disarming charm.

“Temporary, indeed, thanks to the Citadel Council.  How have you been, Liara?”

 Dr. Liara T’Soni, the Shadow Broker for the last some fifty years still looked as young and beautiful as ever.  She blushed beneath her soft blue cheeks, secretly admiring the handsome drell before her.

“I’ve been busy, of course.  I’m still analyzing the latest Prothean relics I located on Kahje’s moon.  I have your father to thank for gaining me access.”

 Deylos’ brow rose slightly and he crossed his arms over his chest. A faint snort exited his nose.

 “My father, the unintentional ambassador,” he murmured.

 “Your father is a wonderful man.  He took the pain from his life and made a beautiful thing, in honor to his own father,” Liara smiled gently.  “Now, back to business, Deylos, what can I do for you, my friend?”

 “I need to get in touch with General Thaddeus Vakarian.  I haven’t been able to track down his last location since my job in Palaven, and that was more than a decade ago.”

 “Of course,” Liara nodded.  “I can get you the contact information back to you within the next few hours.”

 “Perfect,” Deylos flashed another striking grin.

He may be a bit anal retentive with his career but he is definitely charming, Liara thought as she looked at the hologram of the agent. She watched as Deylos switched his stance and folded his hands behind his back as he stood up tall.

 “How is Doctor Matthews progressing?” she asked then watched as the assured look on his face changed to a tight mask of petulance; his right brow plate twitched up and his full lips pursed as his eyes narrowed.

“Quickly, and is quite vocal about how she is not happy about her current situation,” he said in slight irritation.

 “I see.  Well, speaking as a scientist, I can understand her discomfort of being tied down involuntarily.  Give her time and be patient.  She will adapt.  Humans are infamous for adapting to difficulties,” Liara explained.

“I am a very patient man, Dr. T’Soni, and it’s beginning to wear thin,” he picked absently at his ivory talon-like nails.

 “Is there anything I can help with on that particular front?” she offered.

 “I’m afraid not,” Deylos sighed wearily.  “I’ve been in a variety of difficult situations, as you know, but I’m not quite acclimated to stubborn human women who curse worse than a Batarian pirate.  Let’s just call this a learning experience,” he shrugged.

 “Maybe she needs to get a bit of fresh air.”

 he let his voice trail away

“I am pretty confident that you won’t be alone in regards to keeping her safe, Deylos. I have eyes, ears, and even able-bodied individuals at my beckon call.  All you would need to do is say the word and you have a silent army at your back.  Besides, she’s an intelligent woman and I’m sure she’ll understand just how dangerous Nos Astra can be.”

 “I don’t doubt her intelligence, but she’s also terribly stubborn and often refuses to listen to my advice.”  

 Liara laughed a light, musical chuckle that made Deylos’ grimace change to a faint smile.  She was indeed beautiful, and if he really wanted her, Liara would’ve gladly stepped into his bed the next time he traveled to the Citadel.  But he respected the asari for the massive amount of power she had over the galaxy.  If he pissed her off, his head would’ve been served to her on a platinum platter.  And he really liked his head; it had served him well for the past thirty-five years.

“That can be said for any number of highly educated individuals.  Intelligence rarely ever coincides with willingness. Please, keep me up to date on her improvements, and I’ll send you everything I can on Vakarian’s location.  Expect an encoded message directly to your omnitool.”

Deylos nodded in thanks and flashed one last charismatic smile before the transmission ended.  He leaned against the wall and rubbed his chin in thought.  Perhaps it was time to let Mya out of her room and into the Illium daylight for a little while.  He wondered if she would try to run from him which, on her part, wouldn’t have been a move of intelligence. If she did attempt to bolt it would be a huge mistake for her, for he was an expert at catching up with those who tried to run from him.  After all, it was in his job description.

          


	5. The Marketplace

Chapter 5: The Marketplace

“But you, you’re not allowed. You’re uninvited, an unfortunate slight!”

Uninvited, Alanis Morisette 1998

 Mya awoke to her breakfast and found the drell in his leather armor. She had forgotten how imposing he appeared and her curiosity was suddenly piqued as to why he was back in it. The nurse, whose name she discovered was Vahna, set her breakfast on the tray and smiled kindly. When the clothes laid on the bed weren’t her normal gym attire she frowned in confusion.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she looked down at the black and white jumpsuit made to fit an asari. A wrinkle of distain formed on her petite nose.

“You want out of the jail cell, as you have lovingly dubbed your room, and I am obliging you. We need to pick up supplies for the next round of training,” he informed.

“Next round? What are we doing now?” she sipped her tea and tried not to meet his eyes.

Vahna bowed politely to him as she exited the room leaving Mya alone with the drell agent. He crossed the room and sat down in the chair next to her bed.

“We’re leaving Illium in two weeks for Rakhana. It’s a desert planet with nearly no signs of life. No one but for a few drell pilgrims ever venture to its surface making it the perfect location to train you in terms of self-defense and fire-arm experience.”

 “Why do they go there if it’s a dead place?”

“Rakhana is the home of my ancestors. Over two centuries ago the Hanar rescued a few hundred thousand drell from complete extinction, and for that we owe them our lives. My people began to die out nearly a millennia ago from a social and economic backslide, destroying all the natural resources the planet had left. Millions died from starvation or murder in order to gain water, food, or shelter. There may be a few natives still left, but I doubt that they want to be friendly with off-worlders. We shouldn’t be bothered.”

Mya let her eyes drop to her breakfast tray, feeling a sudden twinge of sympathy for the drell. If the humans had not developed mass effect warp drive they would be in the very same position the nearly extinct drell had done to themselves. She finished her breakfast and stood up to walk to her shower room, staring at the jumpsuit skeptically.

While in her shower, she glanced down at her body and found that it had been transformed. The extra calories that had been “forced” down her gullet allowed the soft, round curves of her hips and breasts to return, but the hard hours of physical therapy added muscle tone to her stomach and extensions. The jumpsuit did nothing to hide her feminine shape and she felt her cheeks flush warmly at the thought of being so “exposed” to the public of Nos Astra.

 “Bring me a coat,” she said through the door to the agent, refusing to come out until she was comfortably covered.

“It is not cold or raining,” Deylos answered simply. “You will not need one.”

The door cracked open and the drell saw the human’s cold eyes look him up and down in the tight leather armor.

“You’re wearing one,” she pointed out. Deylos touched the torc at this throat and a faint blue light surrounded his being.

 “My coat is a part of my armor and it is attached to the kinetic barrier shield generator,” he said as he flicked off the torc. “Now, if you want to leave for a few hours, I suggest that you come out.”

 “Why do you need shielding? Are you expecting someone to shoot you down?”

“You can’t be too careful on Illium,” he sighed.

 “But I’m okay to walk around in some skin-tight catsuit. Yeah, that’s safe…” she grumbled as she exited the shower room. Her arms crossed protectively over her chest as she slumped her posture with discomfort.

  “You’ll be fine, just as long as you stay by my side,” the drell turned on his heels and started for the door.

 With a groan, she followed him out of her room, realizing it was the first time she actually got to see the rest of the asari hospital. It reminded her of a very sterile modern art museum. Plate glass floor tiles provided a unique transparent path towards the exit flanked by intricate plates of brushed stainless steel tracks while the walls were snow white covered in strategic areas with abstract works of art.

Deylos led her towards a sky car in the hospital parking lot and opened the passenger door for her. Mya stared at his chivalrous motion with skepticism before sliding onto the seat. The car was set in autopilot, allowing him to sit back and open his omni-tool to the news feeds while Mya watched the city swell up before her in the window.

 Their first stop was a huge warehouse marked “Nos Astra Armouries.” After the car was parked, the drell quickly jumped out and opened Mya’s door, much to her surprise. Calmly, she stepped out, ignoring his offered hand, and watched him shrug before motioning her to follow.

 Inside the building was the largest display of guns, ammunition, armor, and related military-grade items Mya had ever seen. Then again, she had never been inside any kind of shop where weapons of this level were sold. Hundreds of potential customers perused around the glass-encased shelves, pointing out things they liked, didn’t like, and even had the happy-to-please staff allow them to examine the goods first-hand. Most of the patrons were soldiers from the Council-allied occupied space, but there were a few Eclipse merc in their tell-tale yellow and black armor and even regular citizens who realized personal defense was necessary in order to live “peaceful” lives on Illium.

Deylos approached an open counter and smiled in greeting to the young asari salesperson patiently waiting to serve.

 “Welcome to NAA,” the asari smiled back. “How may I help you?”

 “I like to look at a few firearms, rifles and pistols mostly. And I need them to accommodate my companion,” he motioned Mya.

 The asari regarded the human woman at the drell’s right and noticed the look of barely contained tolerance. It was obvious the word “companion” was not used in terms of a relationship anything beyond acquaintance.

 “We have a wide selection of fine Salarian-make brands as well as Asari armouries who hail from Thessia which have proven to be very well made. I can show you anything you’d like to see,” she offered as she walked back toward a case containing a wide assortment of guns.

“Many thanks,” the drell inclined his head. “I also need to place an order for custom torobiyte armor.”

 “For you?” a twinkle shimmered in the asari’s dark red eyes.

“For her,” he motioned to the human woman again.

Mya blinked in surprise, the first time she suggested any bit of emotion since she walked into the large arena-sized store, and stared at Deylos in disbelief.

  _Is he insane?! I’m not wearing military-grade armor every damn day!_ She thought.

“I can go ahead and place an order at this moment. Please, feel free to look around, Sere. If the lady will follow me, I will take measurements,” the salesperson smiled again and showed Mya back toward a small, discreet dressing room where her measurements were taken.

 “If you don’t mind me saying, your companion is very handsome!” she said as she measured Mya’s reach.

 A snort of derision exited the human’s pert nose.

“Humans don’t find drell attractive?"

“How much more measuring do you have to do?” the deep scowl on her brow was more than enough to say she didn’t want to discuss the drell.

 “Sorry. We’ll be finished in just a few seconds.”

When she returned from the slightly uncomfortable session, she spotted Deylos holding a large rifle in hands, dark eyes peering down the scope. Her hopes of being ignored were ended when the weapon was promptly dropped into her grip.

“Hold this,” he instructed with a faint grunt.

 She held the rifle out, an unsure sneer curling her lip, as she attempted to keep it as far away from her person as she could. Weapons were never a part of her profession before and the fact that she had to somehow acclimate herself to this world not only bothered her but made her dislike the drell even more. This was somehow his fault, she thought.

 He growled deeply, a wolfish sound that emanated from his throat and moved her to stand in a correct position for holding the rifle. His foot kicked her legs out to shoulder-width while he angled her back down then placed the butt stock against her collarbone.

“It’s not a bloody fish, Matthews. It’s a gun, a high-powered weapon, so treat it with respect!” she noted the irritation in his voice.

“The M-98 Widow. Very easy to customize, and it is lightweight compared to other long-range rifles,” the asari spoke up. “It should be able to reach a few kilometers in the right conditions with some adjustments.”

“And that means what to me?” Mya mumbled.

 “It means we’ll take it,” Deylos sighed and took it from her hands.

A few more pieces were purchased along with the proper ammunition while Mya continued to sulk and stare at the floor. The longer they were there the more the salesperson began to flirt with Deylos. Annoyed with the shameless teasing and batting of the blue alien’s lashes, Mya shot the drell a dark scowl all while tapping her toes impatiently.

 Taking the hint, Deylos threw his credit chit onto the counter and smiled apologetically.

 “I’ll have someone come by to claim these items when the armor is completed,” he said as he took the small card back.

 The asari nodded and slipped a small piece of paper over to him as she smiled suggestively.

 “It’s estimated the armor will be constructed in a standard galactic week. If you have any questions, here’s my number. My personal number. And thank you for your service.”

 Huffing with displeasure, Mya rushed toward the exit while muttering choice obscenities under her breath.

 “Do the owners of Nos Astra Armouries know that they’re running a dating service at their counters?” she snorted.

 Deylos simply bit on his tongue to keep from answering her and ushered her back to the car.

 When they merged back into traffic, he handed her a separate chit.

 “I thought you might like to have some credits of your own, for purchasing goods and such. I suggest buying comfortable clothes and any necessities you think you may need while we’re at our personal base. Count on staying there for a few months, so spend wisely.”

 Mya regarded the small card curiously then shoved it into her pocket.

“I get money but have to be told how to spend it. How freeing,” she droned coldly.

 “You do realize that allowing you to accompany me during these errands was a chance to get you out of the hospital, right?” he frowned. “Because I could’ve just decided that taking you out would’ve been more trouble than I needed.”

 “I suppose being in your presence in public is some kind of privilege?” she spat back.

 “Arashu, help me…” he sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Doctor Matthews, I am terribly sorry of what happened to you back on Earth. And I’m terribly sorry that you are forced to remain in this situation, but I am trying to help you, whether you see that as the truth or not. You don’t have to like me, and it’s pretty damn obvious that you don’t, but I do ask that you show me at least a very small bit of respect.”

 The second stop was a massive open market where thousands of shoppers gathered to buy just about anything one could imagine. Mya shoved her hands deep into the narrow pockets of her jumpsuit and tried not to stare off at the massive amount of vendors’ stalls lining the huge market square. Just about every kind of known sapient species could be scene perusing the goods in search of things they need and, of course, those things that were too intriguing not to pass up.

But despite the formidable number of law enforcement pacing around, she did notice many others who didn’t look quite so trustworthy. Knowing that people just happened to be moving out of the drell’s path while staring in either awe or faint fear of his opposing figure as he passed, she thought that maybe it was a good idea to step up closer to him. And to also keep her hand firmly wrapped around her chit.

She bought a few pieces of clothes, mostly thinly-woven, sweat-wicking materials that would be useful in an environment that would be hot as hell during the day and cold as ice at night. Deylos was also busy purchasing rations as well as other necessities needed for several months, even placing an order with an Alliance surplus vendor for a small habitat. What caught her attention the most was the fact he bought a few boxes of food that was graded for dextro-amino based lifeforms. She was just about to ask him if he made a mistake when a glimmer of hope sparkled against the dark tunnels of doubt in her mind.

 Directly to her right was a small stall, barely the size of her hospital shower room, but covering the tables where rows and rows of books. Real books! Leather-bound and yellowed pages, the kind of book one places to their breast and sighs in delight, or smell the wear and age against your nose as you dive into the lines of words.

“Hey,” she shouted, stopping dead in her tracks.

 Deylos turned on his heels and stared at her in question.

“I want to go there,” she pointed to the stall.

 He looked from Mya, with her eyes glittering with rare hope, over to the small vendor. It suddenly made him curious to see her expression so changed. He was used to her snarls, growls, and scowls that to notice a touch of longing softening her features meant he didn’t dare deny her the slightest bit of happiness.

 The stall-keeper was a middle-aged human man with specks of white in his light brown hair. He smiled over his antique spectacles and waved in greeting to his potential customers.

“Let me know if you need help,” he said as he went back to reading his copy of The Time Machine.

 Mya nodded and stared up at the rows of books. Most of them, she realized as she read over the worn spines were nonfiction works but she quickly spotted the poetry section on the end of the second table. With a gluttonous need, she grabbed copies of Dickenson, Keats, E.E. Cummings, Brown, and Alighieri; just about anything recognizable that she could hold with reason. The few extra she tried to balance on the stack in her arms made the column sway with warning before every tome tumbled to the ground. She cursed and stooped down to collect the mess she made. Two green hands reached out to gently help her gather the books.

 For a split second, Mya found herself enchanted by the drell, spellbound by the hypnotic glow deep within his rich teal irises. But her chagrin caused her to look away and offer an apology to the stall-owner before placing the books onto the table.

“How much for these?” she asked as she took out the chit.

“A poetry buff, I see,” he grumbled while rubbing his chin. “You can have them for 25 credits.”

Mya blinked in disbelief and rechecked the tall stack she had made. Many of the books had to have been close to half a century old, maybe even older. The conveniences of digitized copies meant that most could have access to millions of books at their fingertips without ever needing to visit a library. Physical books were nearly obsolete, making what she had found at the stall rare and possibly worth many credits.

 “Twenty-five hundred?”

 “No, no,” he smiled. “I mean 25. I’ve had these books here for years. The asari don’t really like human poetry. They say it depresses them, even the romantic collections.   You want them, take them.”

 Grabbing a rope from her bag of purchases, she began to tie the collection into two separate stack before offering a light smile to the vendor.

 “Thank you,” she said softly, the ice gone from her voice.

 “My pleasure, madam. Enjoy them.” 

 Deylos watched her step away from the tables with a new spring in her step. His lips twitched as he attempted to hide the smile that was trying to grow.

Watching the foot-traffic pass around her in a sort of chaotic dance, she lost herself into daydreams of New York, desperately missing the bustle of the living city she used to call her home. She remembered the taxis honking their horns in anger as traffic would back up into jams, the sound of pedestrians crossing the streets, voices of people greeting each other in the mornings as they headed for work. For nearly twenty years she lived in Manhattan in her little apartment, had her own routine every morning where she would go after coffee before she went to school, whether it was at Julliard or NYU. At least that was the routine until her world was jerked out from under her feet two years ago. Her jaw became rigid when she thought about that day.

That horrible day. That was the day she felt her heart die…

 Her arm was nearly pulled out of her socket when she felt something grab at her wrist. She stopped suddenly, yelping in pain, and wondered what the hell had a hold of her. Turning around, Mya came face to face, or close to it, with a very round, white-suited volus. Her books fell from her grip and scattered on the ground. She pulled her hand away and glared at the short creature, rushing to gather her precious tomes.

Deylos spun on his heels after hearing the high-pitched shriek, hand snapping down to cup the pistol grip.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his eyes on the volus.

Mya nodded and rubbed her sore shoulder while she continued to restack her books.

 The drell stood between her and the volus, black eyes challenging the suited creature. His brow plates lifted in surprise when the stranger boldly held up a credit chit.

“How much for the human?” he wheezed.

 Mya’s mouth dropped open.

 “What?!” she struggled to stand up.

 “I want to buy her. I do like an attractive human female. Fascinating creatures, they are. Soft and gentle,” the volus reached out a claw in an attempt to touch her.

 Disturbed and offended, Mya firmly slapped the hand-like metal extension.

 “I’ll show you ‘soft and gentle’, you little round creep! Do I look like I’m for sale?!”

 “But you are carrying a heavy load, insinuating that you are in his service. Are you not an indentured servant?”

 “I most certainly am not!”

 “Doctor,” Deylos began to whisper in her ear but kept his focus still locked on the volus and his hand still lightly gripping the Shuriken. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene in public, but I am in agreement with you that an apology is in order.” With the slightest warning, he pulled back his coat and revealed the weapon against his hip.

 The squat xeno wheezed in disappointment as the chit was carefully tucked back into his suit.

“Oh,” he sighed, head drooping, “Then she isn’t for sale. Pity.”

 Sputtering with contained rage, Mya’s eyes flashed brilliant blue just before the tell-tale sparks of biotic power zipped through her hair and over her body. In order to calm and conceal her power, Deylos moved her to stand behind him, one hand holding to hers. The static from her barely trained abilities stung him just enough to cause the slightest bit of pain.

 “Doctor Natalie Faulkner is one of the finest xenosociologists of her homeworld and is here studying Illium for her latest book. You owe her your deepest respects, Vol-Clan!”

 Glancing from the tall drell with the gun to the shapely human whose face had flushed a deep scarlet, the volus inclined his head in a bow.

 “My apologies to you, Doctor. I hope this unfortunate circumstance hasn’t tarnished your views of Vol-kind.”

 Mya simply nodded and slipped her hand out of the drell’s to continue carrying her prized books.

 Deylos let his coat fall back down then showed Mya back to the car. As he pulled back into traffic and headed toward the hospital, silently grateful that his day of running errands was over, he turned on the soundsystem and left the channel on a human-based station. A quick tempo piano piece began to drift through the speakers. A quick motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he watched Mya’s fingers tap along to the music on her thigh as though she were playing some imaginary keyboard. Her dossier revealed that she had attended a school on Earth focusing on talented individuals in the fields of art and music but didn’t specify why she was there.

 “You know this music?” he asked.

 The human never looked back at him but she nodded.

“It’s Mozart; Sonata in C, the First Movement,” she answered blankly.

“Then I take it you can play the instrument in this piece?” his curiosity grew.

 Mya stopped her hand and sighed sadly, fingers curling inward as she gazed out at the scenery of Nos Astra flying by her window

.“I played piano, and, by the time I was thirteen, had mastered it. When I started NYU I was expected to major in music. But I became more interested in physics and walked away from any prospects in music. I haven’t played the piano in two years,” her voice faded to a whisper.

 A strange pang of pity filled the drell. Something tragic happened to her; something made her become a cold shell. She just revealed that she read poetry, that she was a musical virtuoso, and that all of those things which she obviously loved suddenly stopped bringing her joy. Why?

Back at the hospital, she didn’t snap when he offered to carry her books back to her room. The faintest smile was her gift of appreciation to him while he bowed politely before leaving her in peace.

As he walked down the hall toward his own personal quarters, a thought drifted into his mind. He knew there were a few music shops within the city, carrying such a wide variety of instruments from all across the galaxy that he was sure he could find something akin to a piano. Many instruments had been configured into a digital format for ease and portability when the large, tangible versions were inconvenient in the tight confines of starships. With a couple of swipes through shop inventories, and a few credits swiped from his chit through his omnitool, he found himself in possession of simple program he could download into a cuff-drive

Mya sat on the edge of her bed, nose stuck in the middle of The Divine Comedy, when Deylos walked in, taking back more casual clothes for the thick leathers.

 “What is it, Krios?” she asked, annoyance edging in her soft voice.

 “I have something for you,” he stated as he grabbed her omnitool cuff from the bedside table. With a faint bump of his cuff against hers, the designated program was immediately downloaded into her drive. Hesitantly, he handed the small silver bracelet to her and waited for her to activate it.

 Skeptically, she flipped on the interface and expected to find something about survival or fitness. Her brows lowered, then slowly lifted when she swiped her index finger against the five letters designating the new program. The basic amber interface suddenly changed into the eighty eight keys of a standard piano keyboard. Carefully, she reached out her hands and played a major fifth in C. The sound was synthetic but fairly accurate. There was also just enough give to signal which keys she was pressing, softer touches for quieter notes and hard strikes for louder music.

 A smile appeared on her mouth and tears clung against the rims of her eyes. She closed the keyboard, staring at her fingertips with wonder. It had been so long since she made music. Years of ignoring any kind of pleasures left her numb, but the sound of the chord created by her hands had her suddenly feeling open and vulnerable to emotion.

 She glanced over at Deylos, regarding him in question while she rose from her bed.

 “Why did you do this?” she asked.

 “You said you used to play. If you don’t want it, I can delete the program.”

 Her left hand curled protectively around the cuff.

 “No, don’t. I-I just, I’d like to keep it.”

 “I am glad you do,” Deylos smiled gently.

 He watched her inch closer to him, then surprised him with a weak, yet openly appreciated, hug lasting less than a second. When she pulled away, her sight had dropped to the floor to avoid his stare.

 “Thanks, for this. Now, if you would, I’d like to be alone.”

 Agreeing to her wishes, Deylos offered her another bow before exiting the room. A sigh of relief passed through his parted lips. Finally, he thought, I’m beginning to see who she truly is.

 It was somewhere around midnight when she tiptoed out of her room and found her way into an empty waiting-room overlooking the city. She reopened the piano program, sat down in a seat facing the window and began to play Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.” The glittering lights of the skyline from the skyscrapers and the thousands upon thousands of sky cars pulled her into a hypnotic lull. Music filled her; she could feel the vibrations of each note drawing into her skin, beating pleasantly against her pulse. Fingertips danced languidly along the keys, teasing the music she knew by heart to, once again, come alive. The melody was so bittersweet, so melancholy, but so hauntingly beautiful like a pleasant dream.

 “Quite appropriate,” Deylos spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mya jumped and turned around. She stood to her feet and felt a touch of chagrin to know she had been caught.

 “I, uh, I couldn’t sleep,” she explained shortly. “I suppose you’re here to take me back to my room?”

“No,” Deylos shook his head.

  With a flick of her wrist, she put the keyboard away and turned her attention to the window.

 “It sure is a lovely city,” she mused. “Looks like it’s been made of crystals and gold. Is it really as dreadful as you say?”

 “It is, unfortunately. Lust, greed, and hatred hides behind this glass façade. There may be laws, but there are ways to get around them. Even the higher authorities take advantage of the slack in Illium’s justice system. If you are poor you are forced into slavery, and if you are rich chances are someone’s hired an assassin to kill you.”

 “Your grandfather was an assassin, fought with Commander Shepard during the Reaper Wars,” she glanced back up at the drell.

A pensive expression softened the hard mask he normally wore.

 “The late, great Thane Krios. I only know him through the stories told to me by those who knew him, a few letters he left behind, but I wonder just how many of those tales are true and which are simply fabricated to make him even greater.”

“What do you think?”

 “In all honesty, I don’t know. But I do know that having the same last name as he has certainly helped business,” he flashed a half-grin.

 A peaceful silence passed between the two and Mya found herself curious to more about him. Yet, the second she realized that she wanted to discover the agent’s past, she forced her interest back down and focused on her dislike for him. It was easier to not be fond of someone who repeatedly reminded her that she was in a constant state of danger.

 She took one last look at the city of Nos Astra and felt pity for those who had to live as indentured servants, feeling that she had been subject to become just that to the little crystal cube resting so innocently at her throat. The joy she had experienced from playing the keyboard vanished into the shadows of her self-hate and doubt.

“I’m going back to my room,” she announced in a voice barely above a whisper. “I suppose I owe an apology to anyone who I may have woken with my unpracticed attempt at Beethoven.”

 “It’s okay,” he allowed a warm smile to curl on his lips. “I don’t think anyone would’ve complained. Goodnight, Doctor.”

He bowed to her as she walked away and turned his focus onto the skyline. Yes, he considered, it was quite beautiful. So very dangerous deep within the dark bowels of the urban interior, but Nos Astra was a wondrous place. So very much like Dr. Mya Matthews, he realized. Sighing to himself, he went back to his room and prepared for sleep when the dulcet sounds of her piano program sang through his wall. A low purr sounded from his throat just before he drifted into sleep, coaxed into more pleasant dreams by the songs of the human scientist.


	6. The Turian

Chapter 6: The Turian

"And if you should survive to be 105, look at all you'll derive out of being alive! And here's the best part you have a head start if you are among the very young at heart."

Young At Heart, Frank Sinatra, 1954

The shuttle lowered slowly onto the landing pad with a hiss, spraying the warm rain off the tarmac. General Thaddeus Vakarian was the last one to exit the transport. He hoisted his small rucksack over his slumped shoulder and tried to avoid the rich downpour of warm rain beating on his head.

Everyone looked the same to him; every asari was just some blue-skinned female alien and every volus was a squat, wobbly can with glowing eyes. Maybe he was just getting too old to travel, he wondered. He was quite comfortable to stay back in his small home on Menae and wait for his winter years to dwindle down by watching old vids and chasing young "scamps" off his property. But when he received the call from a very recognizable face (damn green bastard and his slick promises), he suddenly felt young and needed again.

He easily spotted the long, hooded grey coat of the drell among the crowd and shook his head. The damn green bastard certainly had a way of standing out, even among the masses in their brightly colored jumpsuits. Oh, but if the drell wanted to be hidden, he was sure the green bastard (he actually found that referring to him was beginning to grow on him) would never be seen.

They met with clasped wrists and generous smiles, an especially white one from beneath the shadows of the weighted hood.

"General Vakarian, long time, no see," Deylos spoke warmly.

"Likewise, Kiddo," he shook the drell's hand. "Last I saw you, you were looking out at me from behind the cell barrier at that prison like a varren pup who got caught in the larder. You still owe me, by the way."

"And I still intend to make it up to you, Thaddeus," a half smirk crossed the drell's pouty lips.

Deylos politely took the rucksack from the turian and showed him into the shuttle port interior.

"How is your father?" Thaddeus asked as he shook the layer of rain from his jacket, wrinkling his nose in dislike as he did so.

Doesn't rain on Menae, his mind grumbled.

"Always busy, which is good for him. When he's not preoccupied, his mind wanders to dark memories. How have you been holding up?"

"As best as an old military brat like me can," he laughed. "I have a very strict regiment involving reading news feeds, drinking coffee, and shooting the shit with a bunch of old assholes like me at the local general store. Usually in that order."

Deylos snickered and removed his hood, clasping it back to the ring on the shoulder line, revealing his features to the turian.

Thaddeus had to do a double take as he took a closer look at the younger man.

"Spirits, kid, you're looking more and more like your old man's man. Spooky!" he clicked his mandibles into a weak smile.

"Indeed, because no one has ever said that to me more than several hundred times already," he replied in a snarky tone.

He showed Thaddeus to his sky car and set the autopilot for the hospital. On the way to their destination Deylos gave him a quick run-down of the current mission.

"What all can you tell me about this human scientist?" Thaddeus asked. He rubbed his arthritic shoulder which had started to ache with an annoying twinge since he spotted Illium and her blue-tinted atmosphere out of the window of the shuttle. Damn rain.

"She's an untrained yet powerful biotic. The trauma she's endured has left her emotionally unstable but she's been working with doctors, nurses, and psychiatrists in an attempt to stabilize her mind and her abilities. It is another reason to get her to Rakhana as soon as possible. I don't know how much longer I can keep her here without someone leaking information."

Thaddeus looked down at a holo Deylos shared and snorted with disinterest.

"She doesn't look all that threatening does she?" he mumbled as he rubbed his tattooed chin; the old black markings had faded to a dull grey against his earth brown skin.

"No, but once you get to know her I don't think you'll say that again. Her biotics are off the chart. What I've seen is barely scratching the surface and it not only impressed me, but left me checking my underwear."

"Then what am I doing here? You expect me to stand by and just thwack her with a stick when she does something bad? I know nothing about training biotics," Thaddeus asked.

"No, but you're the best at sniper training. I need her to be somewhat proficient in other methods of defending herself without relying on her biotics. Also, I think if there is someone else around she may start to realize just how serious the situation is."

"And just what is that situation, other than we have a ticking time-bomb in our hands?"

Deylos did a quick scan in search for bugs before turning to Thaddeus.

"In truth, it's not her biotics that are a problem, General. Mya Matthews has discovered an energy source so powerful that it could change everything we know about how the universe works. It's so potent that a mere particle could supply the Citadel with massive amounts of power for as long as this galaxy is still in existence, and possibly longer. It's pure kinetic energy! While it seems like a wondrous idea, it can also be weaponized, meaning that whoever is in possession of it can rule over everyone just by threatening to use it. And, once that happens, we might as well be dead."

"The damn Reapers all over again!" Thaddeus shook his head.

"No, the Reapers may have intended to destroy us, but there was still the chance of life rebuilding. This is utter annihilation of everything. No more stars, no more nebulas, the galaxy will fail to exist!"

Thaddeus shuddered and sighed wearily.

"What do we do?"

"We help her try to keep a very big secret."

Mya finished running her two miles on the treadmill and stepped off to start kickboxing when she looked upon the old turian and Deylos. She noticed the military badges on the general's jacket and wondered why the hell a retired soldier was with the drell.

"What do you want, Krios?" she asked as she began to punch and kick the punching bag.

"Doctor Mya Matthews, may I introduce you to General Thaddeus Vakarian, a Reaper War veteran of highest honor," Deylos stepped to the side.

Mya stopped her workout and faced the turian, noticing the air of importance in his stance. She offered a curt nod of her head before resuming her workout.

"Vakarian, eh? Any relation to Garrus Vakarian?"

"A cousin on my father's side, but I never met him, unfortunately," he answered in a gruff voice.

"There's a big statue of Garrus Vakarian in London, right next to Buckingham Palace. Never seen it, but I heard it's huge."

"I've heard that, as well. It's on my bucket list to see it."

"So, what brings you to see the freak of nature?" she continued to pummel away at the bag.

"I'm assuming that you are referring to yourself, correct?"

She nodded without stopping.

"I have the great privilege of teaching you how to take care of yourself," he took a seat on a nearby weight machine bench.

"I've managed to take care of myself for the past fifteen-some years, forgive my brutal honesty, but I don't need it, thanks."

"Hmm," the turian scratched between his mandible plates and noticed that her work-out had changed into less of a meditated practice and more of a struggle between her and the bag. "Maybe, but my experience has taught me that that's not always the case; especially when someone says 'I don't need help'."

Mya stopped punching and stared down at her toes, watching the sweat drip from her forehead down to the mats. This was the drell's fault somehow, she reasoned.

"Look, I'm not trying to be rude, but I would like some privacy so I can finish my work-out."

"General," Deylos nodded to Thaddeus, and the two of them left Mya in peace.

"She's such a pleasant individual, isn't she?" the turian smirked.

"You have no idea."

It was later in the day when Thaddeus watched with slight amusement as the human donned a lab coat and tried to sneak out of the hospital without being noticed. He sidled up behind her, clicking his mandibles into an amused grin.

"Lovely weather we're having, eh, Doc?" he said loudly.

Mya jumped in surprise then looked up at him in fear before attempting to escape, wrapping the coat higher around her shoulders. It was a failed effort however when she realized he was walking beside her

"Are you following me now?" she spat.

"No, I'm just out for a leisurely stroll in this beautiful shithole. Are you supposed to be out alone?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me, no. But I'm simply curious."

Mya sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to go buy a few things to take with me for this ridiculous upcoming trip."

"Okay. Mind if I come along?" he folded his arms behind his back.

She stopped walking and looked up at him skeptically. "Lemme guess. You're filling in for Krios now?"

"No, not at all. In fact, Deylos is watching us now. He's actually surprised you haven't tried this sooner."

"I'm not going back to my room!" she protested.

"I'm not taking you there."

Mya shut her mouth and felt a pinch of chagrin creep into her gut. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the lab coat and started down the street again.

"Fine. Guess I don't have much of a choice, now do I?"

"Hey, I gave you a choice and politely asked permission to tag along. Don't want my company, I'll leave you," he shrugged nonchalantly.

His unconcerned attitude took her away from the grouchy mood she was attempting to keep. So far, she decided that she could tolerate the old xeno.

"Come on, General. Better the company of someone who knows his boundaries than a stuffy spy," she grumbled.

Thaddeus chuckled and nodded his head. "Yeah, he is a bit on the serious side, isn't he?"

Deylos watched the two from a safe distance, hiding within the shadows of darker corners. He was expecting her to buy a ticket off Illium or perhaps something that would help her disguise herself. However, when he watched her purchase a bag of fruit and offered it to the rag-clothed asari child who she had seen staring at the food with hunger, his opinion of her began to change. The girl, with tears rolling down her dirty face, clung to the human before dashing off to eat her gift.

Other things she had purchased were a small microscope and a portable lab set-up, all which fit into a small knapsack. Thaddeus offered to carry it for her but she refused and hoisted the heavy sack onto her back, trudging along like a grumpy pack animal until they reached the hospital.

Every time he attempted to decode her, he discovered that there was always some new layer blocking his assumptions. He should've let go the fact that she snuck out, expected it, in fact, but she didn't listen to him. She could've easily been captured, even with Thaddeus nearby. A strong mercenary would've had no problems getting rid of an old turian, no matter how capable Thaddeus still proved to be. As much as he hated the idea, he needed to drive some sense into her brain.

Back in the hospital Mya began to pack for the upcoming trip which was only days away. There was a polite knock at her door and she stopped folding her clothes to answer it.

"General Vakarian. Something you need, sir?" she asked as he entered her room.

"Call me Thaddeus, please. No point with all this formality crap. And, no, I don't need anything. Just wanted to give you this," he handed her a small bar of chocolate. "Heard humans liked the stuff. I'd save it for emergencies if I were you. The desert can sap your energy real quick and can make one a bit hypoglycemic. Least, that's what I've read about your kind. So damn squishy, but, whatever. Who am I to judge?"

A smile crossed her lips as she held the small candy bar, recognizing the Earth-founded company by the brown and silver logo.

"I haven't had chocolate in ages. Thanks," she stuffed it into her rucksack.

"Welcome. Listen, I know you're going through a pretty rough patch, but it'll get better before it ends," he said.

Mya picked up her copy of Emily Dickenson poetry and sighed.

"Can you promise that?" she looked back at the turian.

Thaddeus dropped his head and sighed sadly. "No, Doc, I can't. I'm used to giving pep talks to a bunch of battle-ready soldiers, not a scared human woman who has no clue what's happening to her. Wish I could promise that."

"I appreciate the honesty. Ever been to this Rakhana?"

"No, ma'am. Can't be too different from Tuchanka, which I've been to once. And I don't think I'll be going back there. Too many wild varren. Rakhana is a post-dystopian wasteland, a ball of sand and rock with nothing of great importance. It's a good place to train, especially if you don't want anyone knowing where you are."

"Yeah, but the difference is Tuchanka is still inhabited by people with cities and civilization."

Thaddeus took a seat and nodded in agreement. "True, but the real difference, if you will, is the fact that during troubled times the krogan, believe it or not, banded together during difficulties, especially after the genophage affected them. The drell, however, were desperate and instead of trying to survive for each other it became every man, woman and child for themselves. Not to offend, but the drell are quite similar to humans in that aspect. Even their eidetic memories couldn't see the damage they were doing to their lives. They have to thank the hanar for their continued existence or else there would be no drell alive today."

"Humans developed mass warp drive before the drell. That's the only reason why we continue to exist."

"With a little help from Prothean technology; although we all have to admit that we took cues from them. But, looking back now, can you put much stock into technology being your savior? I certainly wouldn't."

"Technology, General, is the very reason why I'm standing before you. My life, quite literally, depends on it," she pointed to the long pink scar at her temple. "Despite the fact that I hate to admit it, technology stares me in the face every damn day. With this chip in my brain I'm only one step away from being partly synthetic. So, in all sense of the word, technology is my savior."

"Maybe, but partly synthetic or not, you still are an organic being and not harboring an AI. Of course, I could be wrong." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I would think that the life of an AI would be much more peaceful than the one I'm living. I envy them," she picked absently at the lint balls on a sweater before folding it up and throwing it into her sack.

"Then I'm sorry for you, Doc."

"Why?"

"Because being an AI would mean there is a lack of moral purpose to your life. Most of the AI's I've met seem to be unable to process morality, and I don't think that you are an immoral person or else those around you would be dead."

Tears stung her eyes and she turned her back to the turian.

"Those around me are dead," she whispered.

"Did you kill them?"

She spun on her heels and glared coldly at Thaddeus.

"There you go. You still have a soul." He stood up to walk away, saluting her.

"Wait," she called and he turned around.

"Yeah, Doc?"

"It's nice being around someone who treats you like a normal person. I haven't really talked to anyone for a long time," she looked down at her hands.

"Anytime," he smiled before leaving her room.

Mya sat down on her bed and sighed wearily. Two more days on Illium, she thought and went back to packing her bags. Moments later, her door reopened and Deylos walked in. She felt her brow lower over her eyes, immediately throwing up her guard knowing that he was about to scold her.

"Let me guess, I'm in trouble, right?" she growled.

"While I am glad you allowed Thaddeus to accompany you, I do wish you would've told me you wanted to go out. I know you are intelligent enough to understand warnings, or at least I hope you are, but I feel you need reminded of just how dangerous this city is."

"I don't need reminded, thanks. And I appreciate the insult to my intelligence, by the way," she snapped and threw a shirt hard into the bag.

"Forgive me, but I am getting a bit exhausted of you ignoring me, Doctor. I completely understand how frustrated you are in this situation-"

"No, you don't!" she spun around and faced him. "I had a life, maybe not as exciting as yours apparently is, but it was mine! And I wake up to discover that not only did my closest friend die, but that I caused it all! Because of this," she jerked at the thin gold chain, "I now am forced to listen to everything you tell me to do! I'm fucking sick of it!"

"I am only trying to help you, to protect you!"

"Spare me your saintly mission, Krios! I don't want your help, I never asked for it! Matter of fact, if I could go back in time, I'd put myself in that line of fire in hopes of getting killed!"

"Surely, you don't mean that," he shook his head.

"Look at me! If this was you, would you want to live like this? Unable to come and go as you please? Forced to listen to some pontificating jerk telling you over and over how your life is in danger?! Spare me your little speech for wanting to feel the sun on my face for only a few moments!"

"Dr. Matthews-"

"I don't want to fucking hear it!" she shouted. Faint sparks of biotic blue zapped over her skin. "I want my life, my freedom, back! I want to be able to walk around without worrying if someone has a gun pointed at my head! I don't want to be reprimanded for wanting those things by a big, dumb ox who threatens doom and gloom every chance he gets!"

"Insulting me won't help this situation."

"What situation? The situation you put me in? Because everything was just fine until you showed up!"

"You know that's not true," he growled. His patience was beginning to fray.

"Get out," she seethed.

"There are only two days left until we are to leave. Please, don't make it any more difficult that it already is."

The sparks enlarged and zipped like small bolts of static through her skin and hair. Her grey eyes began to glow a brilliant sapphire.

"You misogynistic despot! You dare to make this about you?! Get out now before I blast your head off your neck!"

Biting down hard on his lips, Deylos exited the room and shut the door just in time to avoid the coffee mug she had thrown at him. Through the loud shattering of the glass he could hear her sob. His empathy almost made him go back in to console her. But his frustration and logical side made him keep walking until he reached the gym.

He punched and kicked at the punching bag until his muscles burned. Irritated with himself and the situation, he walked away and tried to regain his calm by taking deep breaths. The human was a problem. He expected her to try and regain her independence but he didn't expect her to be so damned aggressive. The argument left a bad taste in his mouth and he reached for his water bottle to rid himself of the bitterness.

"Aww, is someone a wittle upset because the human got to him?" T'Sara taunted.

He turned around to watch the asari saunter into the gym, wearing a wry, victorious smile on her face.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"What? Can't I visit my favorite egotistical male drell and not get bit in the ass?"

"You do enjoy annoying the piss out of me, don't you?"

"I love you, too, Deylos, but I'm not sleeping with you."

"Unless there is a legitimate reason for you to be here and torture my brain, I'll ask you to leave me in peace."

"I'm surprised it took Matthews this long to snap, especially as overbearing as you've been lately. You expected her to just roll over onto her back and submit to all your demands."

"No, I do not."

"Yes, you do. Every damn time she's said or did something to oppose you, you come in here and throw your little macho hissy fits, punching away until you exhaust yourself. This is not the way to handle her. As powerful as she is, she's ridiculously fragile. She needs to heal, and she's not. Time, patience, and letting her have a little bit of privacy are the only things that will help. She watched her associate get drilled with high-caliber military rounds while fighting for her life. And you treat her like some kind of animal that needs to be caged."

"An animal?" he snorted.

Lera patted her knees and made kissing sounds as though she were calling a pet.

"Here, girl! Want out of your cage? Take a ride in the car? Well, fuck you! You get to stay in this shithole of a hospital room and listen to me drone on and on about how I'm going to take care of you! That's you! And that's what she thinks of you."

"You really are a terrible person, T'Sara," he glared.

"I've come to terms with that, thanks. But the difference between you and me is that I don't live in a world of illusions, Deylos. I know when I've pissed someone off."

"She needs to know just how dangerous things could be."

"And she does. Matthews is no dummy, nor is she trying to ignore it. She's scared. She may not be your favorite person right now, and you are certainly not hers, but you need to understand that she will not always need you. Matter of fact, you may need her."

"And that means-"

"It means you aren't the hero here. She is."

With a switch of her hips, the asari left Deylos to stare down at the mat and contemplate her words. He gave the punching bag one last, half-hearted thrust of his fist before walking away.


	7. Zeeva and the Holy Rollers

Chapter 7: Zeeva and the Holy Rollers

"I will remember you. Will you remember me? Don't let your life pass you by; weep not for the memory."

I Will Remember You, Sarah McLachlan 1995

Mya pulled her rucksack onto her shoulder and stared at the room she had been subjected to live in for months. The fact that she was leaving one form of hell for another kept her brain locked in a state of numbing stasis. She hated the heat, hated dry air even more. She sighed and turned around, face frozen to any emotions she may have felt inside. There was nothing else for her to take, she realized. Everything that had given her this new identity had been shoved into the satchel resting with thick weight on her back. She wondered if this was how Atlas felt when the Earth was dropped onto his unprepared shoulders.

Deylos waited for her outside the door and held out the white labcoat she had taken the day she snuck out of the hospital. Her cold eyes met his, noticing the faint fiery petulance glowing within the deep teal irises. She was expecting some kind of insult from him, reminding her of how she "broke the rules".

"It is raining," he informed in a distant tone.

Since their blowout with each other two days ago he barely spoke more than three words to her at a time. Apparently, she had gotten under his skin, angered him perhaps.

_Even better_ , she thought. _I'd rather he hate me than pity me!_

She shrugged the garment on and flipped the collar up to her ears before dragging the rucksack back onto her back and following him out of the hospital. She watched as he unsnapped his cowl and dropped it over his head, shadowing most of his face. The dark scowl was still there, she knew, but the fact that it was hidden eased her frustration by just a small bit.

They were to meet Thaddeus, who had taken the task of gathering their purchases from Nos Astra Armouries and the other shops Deylos had bought their supplies to cart onboard, at the awaiting starship. Resting on the launch pad was the small shuttle and one very perturbed-looking turian. She took one final look at the city before she boarded the shuttle and sat against the window in silence. Thaddeus hopped in and shook his head, flinging water droplets onto her hands.

"Spirits damn this confounded downpour! Deylos, get in here!" he called to the drell who carefully scouted around the shuttle before he jumped inside.

A hiss rushed as the shuttle lifted off the platform and flew into the sky. Mya drew her knees under her chin and held herself tightly. Thaddeus patted her stiffened shoulder.

"You know that coat's not serving you well, if you're trying to hide, right?"

Mya didn't move. She watched as Illium became a glowing blue ball in her window.

"Well, ain't this going to be the most fun an old bastard like me ever had going to some dead dirt ball in the sky," he grumbled and began to snack on a bit of jerky.

The shuttle met with the ship that was heading for Rakhana. It wasn't large but it screamed "brand new" by the appearance of its brilliant shimmering hull and state-of-the-art swooping asthetics. About thirty drell were on board, and most of them were obviously wealthy by the finery they openly wore. Deylos and Thaddeus politely greeted them while Mya, on the other hand, skulked away to her room and stayed there until Deylos, regretfully, went to check on her.

A knock rapped on her door.

When asked who was there, the drell responded with "You know who it is, Doctor."

Her reply was to simply throw his belonging out the door then promptly slam it shut.

The drell slung his satchel over his shoulder and began to wonder if there was a gym on the ship. He had a sudden need to punch something that could take a few angry swings. It was five days traveling through the mass relays to Rakhana. He had a bad feeling that those five days were going to feel like years.

Two hours later…

The metallic bang of a fist on her door interrupted her reading of Maya Angelou. She dropped her head back from the pages of the book and sighed.

"Ugh! What?!" she shouted.

"Dinner is being served in the mess hall," the drell spoke through the door.

"So?"

"Are you not hungry?"

"Not particularly, for your information! Go away!"

"I cannot. I've allowed you to brood long enough. Now either you come with me or I return with my food," a grumble of irritation hinted in his voice.

Mya slapped the cover shut and shuffled to the door. She cracked it open and gazed upon the drell dressed in a casual suit of a dark gold tunic and tight black pants. Despite the fact he looked rather dashing, she was still undeniably irritated at him. A nice person fine clothing did not make and she was quite firm in her reasoning.

"We're on a ship with a bunch of holy rollers."

"Regardless, it's still my job," he gazed at her with a determined expression.

"Maybe you should put your job on hiatus," she snarled.

Deylos walked behind her, shaking his head wearily.

In the mess hall most of the passengers were merrily dining and talking. Mya grabbed a few items onto her plate and found a table that was empty.

At least it was for a few moments until a pretty, young female in bright pink sat down next to her. She fidgeted with her veil and skirts then looked up and flashed Mya a huge, pure white smile. Her onyx eyes sparkled like fine gemstones.

"Hello!" she greeted. Her voice was a strange mix of adolescent soprano and graveled vibrato. "I'm Zeeva!"

"Doctor Natalie Fauklner," she used the alias Deylos invented.

Zeeva smiled brightly again, a touch of pink flushing under her peach-hued scales.

"A human scientist! Are you going to study the ruins? I've always dreamed of being a historian of sorts, maybe an archaeologist when I start at University back in Vashta City; that's the second-largest Drell city on Kahje, and as long as Father says it's okay, but Father wants me to study medicine and I'm really not that interested because it seems soo BORING! What kind of a scientist are you?"

Mya stared at Zeeva in shock, amazed that the girl said everything in one breath.

"I'm a physicist," she replied.

The huge black eyes grew wider, if it was naturally possible, to reveal bright indigo irises.

"Oh, wow! So, then you study how the universe works and proving theories into actual facts and get to work with all sorts of interesting equipment and atoms and subatomic particles… right?"

"Something like that," Mya mumbled and munched on a vegetable stick.

Zeeva shrugged and smiled happily.

At that moment Deylos sat down at the table across from Zeeva and flashed a wide smile that made Mya look twice. She had never seen the agent grin so brightly and it made her wonder just what he was up to.

"Young Sana, I see you've met my companion," his eyes focused on Mya.

Suddenly, she realized the drell had sought his revenge by sending the girl to her table. Her eyes narrowed just enough for him to see that she caught his little prank.

"I've never met a human before, but I have seen shows on the holoscreen and movies, and holo pics, so I had some idea about your race, and I'm soo fascinated by some of the interesting characteristics like the ability to feed infants from your body. Oh, I think human babies are ADORABLE! Have you ever had a baby?"

Mya closed her dropped mouth and took a quick sip of her water.

"N-no."

Deylos bit down on his lips to keep from laughing. The expression on her face was perfectly priceless. He made a mental note to revert back to this moment when he needed a good laugh.

"Oh, did I offend you? I'm soo sorry!" the girl shrank down with open chagrin.

"It's okay, you didn't."

"Oh, good!" Zeeva breathed in relief. "I don't like making people mad. It really upsets me and I just want to make people happy," she looked at Mya with "puppy dog" eyes and the human felt her heart tug slightly.

Mya finished her dinner while Zeeva managed to talk the entire time. She looked across the table at Deylos who was politely listening to the quick-tempo of the girl's chattering. A few moments later, she excused herself from the table and bid the upbeat girl good night.

Deylos walked her back to her room, or at least walked behind her as she huffed and puffed her way back to her private quarters. For once, in quite a while, he was enjoying himself. Her irritation made him think of Atlon and the way he would sputter furiously when he teased the youngest Krios.

"Why did you sent that chatterbox to my table?!" she spun around when she stopped at her door.

Deylos stood up pin-straight and folded his arms behind his back and offered her a faint smirk.

"In hopes of putting you in a better mood," he answered. "She is certainly entertaining, don't you agree?"

She glared darkly and walked into her room.

"I despise you, Krios!" she snapped while slamming the door. Deylos laughed heartily and walked back into the mess hall.

The next morning…

The pounding on her door woke her from a deep sleep, causing her to groan loudly while rolling out of the narrow cot. She shuffled to the door and opened it for the bodyguard who happened to be carrying two steaming mugs of tea. Rolling her sleep-heavy eyes, she walked back to her cot, flopped back down and covered her head with her pillow and blankets.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" he greeted happily.

"Fuck you," she grumbled as she dropped the pillow back over her face. She heard his footsteps approach just before he flung the blanket and pillow off, depositing them promptly on the floor.

"Now, now, let's not be so vulgar. I met Sana Zeeva in the hallway and accepted her invitation to sit with her family for the morning meal. I think she liked you, despite the fact that you barely spoke a word to the girl," he smiled charmingly.

Mya glared at him and attempted to smooth out her long hair.

"Can I rescind the invitation?"

"You can, but then you'd be seen as rude among nearly everyone on board, especially to Zeeva who, for some unknown reason, actually likes you. Imagine that, someone who doesn't view you as a burden!" he smiled brightly again.

The mess was alive with the passengers greeting each other for their morning meal.

"Dr. Faulkner!" the high-pitched voice carried over the others in the room.

Mya winced and tried not to show any dislike. Zeeva was, after all, a sweet girl even if she was a bit difficult to tolerate. They were waved over to her table, half filled with members of her family.

"Good morning, Sana Zeeva," Deylos greeted kindly.

Zeeva let her eyelids flutter over her eyes shyly. "And to you, Sere," she returned, trying not to giggle.

Mya inwardly groaned into her mug of tea while she watched the girl openly flirt with the agent.

While the group showed obvious interest in Mya's job as a scientist, and the fact that she was human, which many had never met, Zeeva chattered incessantly through the meal. There were questions within questions asked, words spoken so quickly Mya wondered if the girl was a salarian in drell skins. It was only a few moments later that she realized her cantankerous attitude began to dwindle. She actually started to feel, oddly enough, welcome within the group of colorfully dressed and voiced drell. Even Deylos was tolerated to a small degree.

After spending some time reading, Mya decided to stretch her legs by taking a walk around the ship, finding her way into the cargo area. She stood before the large metallic box on the hoverpallet and stared in curiosity at what was to be their habitat. Sure, it was supposed to unfold like some strangely engineered flower, but it was difficult for her to see this hunk of grey metal being able to withstand much weathering.

"What are you studying on Rakhana?" the soft, clarion voice of the girl interrupted her thoughts.

Mya spun around to see Zeeva sitting on the floor, a pad of paper in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.

"Climate control and greenhouse effects," she answered shortly. "It's been a few hundred years since Rakhana's been populated and I am going to see if the environments have improved or not."

Zeeva giggled quietly and shook her head.

"You won't find anything too useful, I'm afraid. The cities are blocked off by rock walls and left to rust away, the Great Ocean is now a very salty and highly acidic pond in the western hemisphere, and if you find any life they won't like you much, both animal or plants. Trust me. My parents have been bringing me here every year since I was an infant and each time it's the same. Sand, wind, dust, heat. A few lizards here and there but they're not friendly. They bite."

"Wouldn't the natives be willing to talk? Allow themselves to be interviewed?"

"The Rakhanians? No. They keep to themselves. You probably won't even see one. They really don't like off-worlders. We've been called 'traitors' before, but they still let us land on the surface so we can offer alms to the gods for Giving Day."

"Giving Day?"

"It's the day when the gods supposedly gave us, mortals I mean, life. It's kind of a big deal for my parents. They're pretty religious. Especially Mother."

"Do you not agree with the religion?"

"I don't know. I haven't really made up my mind about it. I mean, I love the stories of Arashu, she's the mother goddess, and I like the idea that when someone is in trouble, like a child, she sends winged warriors down to protect them."

"What about those who meet unfortunate circumstances?" Mya challenged.

"It's not a perfect religion, but some of it is rather nice. Sometimes the stories help us when we can't understand why things are the way they are. It gives us an excuse."

"Science can explain things that are difficult to understand."

"Not always," Zeeva smiled and shrugged. "Can science explain why a mother can still love their children when they do something bad?"

"Instinct. It's fairly simple."

"You don't think that maybe love's more than just a bunch of hormones surging in your bloodstream, that maybe there's a possibility that fate is a real thing? I mean, sure, you can say it's just how we're supposed to be wired because of evolution or whatever. But it makes more sense to me to say that we love certain people in certain ways because we're meant to, instead of a boring explanation about chemicals in your body. Like the gods gave us a purpose and that's to love each other."

"All things being equal, the simplest explanation is usually the correct one," Mya said proudly.

"Usually, but not always, right?"

The human fell silent and considered the girl's words.

_Usually, but not always_.

Zeeva stopped painting and regarded her company with curiosity. She knew that humans didn't have minds like drell and lost memories as they aged, but didn't know the extent of the loss. Would Dr. Faulkner wake up the next day and regard those around her as though she had never met them?

"Will you remember me? I don't know if humans remember people like we do, but, well," she let her voice fade away

Mya smiled gently and nodded. She felt a strange kinship with her after such a short time and, if she thought more about it, even liked the young woman.

"I promise, Zeeva, I will never forget you."

O . . . O . . . O

"Entering Inter Rim Mass Relay!" the captain's voice said over the speakers. "Prepare for FTL Jump."

Mya sat up on her cot, her datapad on her lap. A strange, electric sensation drifted over her skin and made the hair rise as though she were touching a Tesla coil. The entire ship seemed to groan one loud yawn as the supersonic boom caused the small vessel to launch into a velocity that was nearly uncharted. Mya had never experienced a Mass Relay jump. It was unsettling, quite odd, but nothing that made her afraid of interstellar travel.

Suddenly, her door was being knocked upon with fervor. She opened it and was immediately pushed to the side as a flash of green and turquoise rushed into her privy. Cautiously, she approached to see, much to her shock, Deylos hovering over her toilet bowl and vomiting.

"Um, y-you okay?" she asked as another wave of nausea sent the drell into a quiet heave.

"Do not be concerned with me, Matthews," he whispered in a stressed voice as he slumped to the floor.

"Was it something you ate?" she prodded, and Deylos looked up at her with slight annoyance.

"If you must know, I get ill from the jumps at Mass Relays," he dropped a weak hand to his forehead.

Mya held back her cynicism and, oddly enough, felt a touch of sympathy for him. She had seen him take punches to his midsection during their sparring exercises, most likely seen things that would've made her skin crawl with disgust, but so far space sickness was his only weakness.

He looked up at her with dulled eyes; the sparkle in the peacock green irises had faded into the milky blackness. The red lining of his bottom eyelids paled to a sick pink. He appeared weak and undeniably ill.

"Go on, if it pleases you, and say something sarcastic to make yourself feel better about catching me in an inconvenient situation," he admonished, his dark voice raspy and thin.

"I wasn't going to say anything but 'go lay down'," she replied coldly.

Deylos regarded her with his glassy eyes, speculating her words, and nodded in acceptance.

"Very well," he grumbled and made his way to her cot. Mya filled a glass with water and placed it next to him on the nearby stand then grabbed a cold pack from a first aid kit and wrapped it into the long-sleeved shirt she wore earlier that day.

"Here," she placed the pouch in his hands. "Put it over your eyes. It'll keep the room from spinning."

He breathed in the scent of her skin from the fabric, detecting the faint aroma of lightly fragranced soap she had taken from the hospital. It was a pleasant smell, one that made him inhale deeper.

She left the room in search of an extra cot and the box of tea she purchased back in Nos Astra. Thaddeus was spotted in the cargo hold taking inventory of their possessions, and he gave her a warm grin and a wave.

"Hey, Doc, haven't seen you in a while. How're things?" he asked as he ticked off his list.

"Things are being tolerated, General," she said as she plucked two ginger and chamomile sachets from her collection.

"Have you seen Deylos? I thought he might be back here but I haven't seen him since this morning."

"He's in my room," she said blankly.

Thaddeus blinked his vermillion eyes and wondered if he heard her right.

"In your room? What's he doing in there?"

"Throwing up his lunch."

The turian burst out laughing and shook his head. "I forgot that he gets motion sickness from relay jumps. Kolyat, his father, was like that, too. I'll leave him alone, then. He'll need a few hours to get back to normal."

"Yeah, that's why I'm bringing him tea," she shook the tea bags before her.

"Well, isn't that rather kind of you," he regarded her suspiciously.

"No, not really. I want him out," she said then walked back down the hall, folded cot slung across her back.

The sound of porcelain clinking next to his ear drew his attention out of his meditation. Deylos lifted one corner of the cold pack and regarded the human who placed the tea mug next to the water glass.

"It's ginger," she explained shortly. "It helps relieve nausea."

"Thank you," he mouthed and dropped the pack back over his eyes.

"I have been doing some research on drell physiology and a few things piqued my interest," she said as she sat up her cot.

"And that would be?" he croaked, his throat raw from the acid.

"The comparisons between our species, for the most part. Your brains are five percent larger than average humans, which I assume is an evolutionary mutation to contain the eidetic memory drell typically possess. The skeleton is also porous and muscle structure has tighter fibrous make-up along with more elastic tendons and ligaments. Your species is tough, strong, and extremely fast."

"Is that a fact?" he snorted and flopped back down, smelling the strong ginger wafting from the mug.

_It does smell nice,_ he considered while he stared at the steaming mug.

"There is also one other thing that interests me," she looked down at her datapad and scrolled down the page.

"Yes?"

"Your society tends to be less violent, at least recently, than any moment in human history."

"Please, enlighten me," he grumbled.

"Your people are proud, stoic and religious, somewhat curious. Your society is family oriented but also territorial. In the past, while on the brink of extinction, males would fight to the death over a female of child-bearing age, although it's unlikely that that instinct remains due to the integration into galactic society," she reported again and threw the datapad onto the cot.

"Your point?" he tried to calm his nausea as he felt a touch of turbulence from the relay jump. The tea needed to cool down anyway, he decided as he wrinkled his nose at the thought of vomiting again, and let go of the mug.

"My point is the perfect memories your species possess is a major advantage to your society. When you remember everything you don't make the same mistakes, ruining the lives of millions around you. You are much more evolved both physically and socially than humans. It's a trait to be envious over."

"Despite all the advances the human race has made in such a short time, we're still primitive, vile creatures. We continue to fight amongst each other over paltry issues, learning nothing from our war-torn past. It's no wonder the rest of the galaxy looks at us like we're animals, because, by in large, we are.

"If I had only ignored my instinct to be curious I would never be in this predicament," she touched the crystal at her throat.

Deylos sat up, hand on his unstettled gut, and regarded her with patience.

"Drell society isn't as perfect as you may think. We can be just as wicked and deceitful as you claim humans have been, I'm afraid. It's not a genetic mutation that makes one violent and evil, it is a choice. You had a choice to walk down the path of curiosity just as the person responsible for your near death made the choice to attack you and your partner." We all experience the same thing which separates us as sentient beings from innocent animals; free will." He sighed and dropped back down to his pillow.

"And I'm assuming that the eidetic ability means that drell are, for the most part, highly intelligent. Another trait that continually reminds me how unevolved humans are.

"I've met plenty of stupid drell in my life, despite the perfect memory, and made plenty of mistakes of my own in the past."

"Do you consider yourself stupid?" she asked.

Deylos laughed weakly and dropped the cold pack over his forehead. "Depends on the day."

"You're not stupid, Krios," Mya spoke dully.

Beneath the confines of his pillow, the drell smiled. It was the first real compliment she paid him. Perhaps there would be a chance to discover who she was under the thick emotional armor she constructed around her soul. Perhaps he could finally drink that tea. It still smelled good…


	8. Rakhana

Chapter 8: Rakhana

"Oh, desert, speak to my heart! Oh, woman of the earth, maker of children who weep for love, maker of this birth, tell your deepest secrets unknown to me. I will not be moved."

Run to the Water, Live, 1998

She was expecting something similar to images of the Sahara when she first looked upon Rakhana. The air was, of course, hot and bone dry with tinges of metallic rust and burnt earth in the wafting scent. Shimmering mirages haunted the horizon making the red-toned dunes resemble watery domes. And while the landscape was like the pics she had seen of Earth's deserts there was something vastly different about the planet's surface. It took her a moment, after watching the religious pilgrims exit the shuttle, to realize what that was; sadness.

The drell, dressed in their ceremonial garbs, mostly white robes but for a few who wore red, gray, and black, never said a word as they gazed upon the dead land of their ancestors. Even Zeeva, who barely stopping for a breath between her quick-paced words, was silent the moment she stepped foot onto the planet's surface.

She was tempted to say something comforting to her and make the pretty girl smile, but the hand that weighed on her shoulder pulled her away from the reverend group. Mya looked up and saw Thaddeus smile weakly at her. He nodded his head towards the opposite direction where Deylos was already gathering the few pieces of luggage they had dragged onto the shuttle. Somewhere off in the distance would be the place they would set up the compact habitat and call it home.

She grabbed her rucksack; sweat was already starting to drip down her back, and followed the agent westward. Thaddeus grumbled quietly about his arthritis acting up, mainly to fill the silence that surrounded the three. She looked down at the map on her omnitool; nearly five kilometers to the desired location, right on the edge of Amonkira's Valley. Not far from that was the large canyon where apparently a river once flowed; a marring scar digging into the land that was deeper than the Grand Canyon on Earth but not as long. She had no doubt she could walk that far, in normal conditions that is. The heat-thickened air was already draining her energy, causing her steps to shorten and slow. Five kilometers was going to feel like five hundred.

There was very little current information on Rakhana; what she did find were passages from witnesses during the Ten Year Exodus, a collection of stories rich with sadness, regret, and hope for a better life. At that time the planet was dead and soon so would be the remaining billions, who were left to fend for themselves while they watched family, friends, and strangers crumble to dust. The ground water had been used to the last drop, the earth couldn't support any attempt at a harvest, and no useful minerals were left to mine.

Apparently a few hundred-thousand native drell still lived on the planet, attempting to resuscitate the seemingly dead earth back to life. As she looked around she wondered just where they were hiding and if she would ever be privileged to meet one. More than likely, remembering what Zeeva said about the natives being solitary and unwelcoming to visitors, that answer was a strong "no".

About an hour later and feeling exhausted and overheated, the small habitat, which rode on the hoverpallet like some strange, modern Ark, was placed down on the ground and opened from its collapsed position. By the look of it, it was still relatively nondescript and boxy with small slits for windows and a circular airlock for a door.

Mya sighed wearily when she realized that there may be just enough room to turn around and maybe not bump into either Thaddeus or Krios; much less room than she had to herself in the Nos Astra hospital room. She caught a glimpse of a few crates stuffed tightly within the confines then at the small generator hooked into the right side. A deep pang of regret settled uncomfortably in her stomach as she shuffled her feet through the hot sand.

_If I wasn't being the nosy, eager idiot and not try to look for that stupid particle I wouldn't be here! I wouldn't have to march through scorching hot sand with forty pounds of crap on my back. I wouldn't have to have this damned chip in my cerebral cortex. I wouldn't have been shot to hell or watch Nareid sacrifice himself…_

Deylos unlocked the door to the small, metal cabin, a soft, electronic chirp sounding before the airlock hissed as it opened. The smell of glue, plastic, and welding filled her nose as they walked into the rectangular shelter. Bright sunlight peeked through the slit windows and revealed the impeccably clean rooms. It was furnished lightly, very modestly, but proved to be adequate enough. The very center of the habitat was the kitchenette with a small, archaic gas range, an even smaller refrigerator, and a fold-down table with four chairs. Cabinetry flanked the walls, filled with provisions (mostly freeze-dried goods and shelf-stable food), dishes, and cookware.

To the right were two rooms; one a bunking area and the second converted into a very small but efficient armory complete with an ammunition reloading area, the guns purchased in Nos Astra Armouries and her new suit of torobiyte armor. It was simple in design, a dark charcoal grey shimmering from the fabric weave beneath the resin-like material and finished with deep blue striping around the edges of the separate pieces.

 _Not horrible to look at_ , she decided then hated the fact that she actually found the armor, which was to keep her sorry ass alive, attractive.

She backed out of the room and looked into the left side of the habitat where the other two bunks were located. They were of equal size and linked together by a small doorway which eventually led to the kitchenette. She was about to claim the bunk next to the armory until the General slung his rucksack into the room to mark his territory. A dark scowl was shot at the turian as she turned on her heel.

The last room she investigated was the very small, almost inconvenient water closet with a short hose and cheap-looking nozzle serving as the shower. The water-recycling pump, though a several-stage filtration system, worried her some. She started feeling home-sick for Earth or for any planet that had a significant supply of fresh water.

As she exited the tiny room she was taken by surprise when Deylos grabbed the rucksack from her shoulders and carried it into the bunk. She was about to thank him when she watched him gently set the pack down next to her cot, but bit down hard on her lips to keep the kind words from flowing off her tongue.

"We need to get the rest of our supplies put away before the sandstorm hits," he informed as grabbed a crate marked "food".

"Sandstorm?" she frowned then let her eyes widen. Her thoughts immediately went to Zeeva and the drell pilgrims.

"Coming in from the west in about two hours, according to the atmosphere reading," the drell pointed to his omnitool cuff.

He watched as she peeked her head out the exit and stared off toward the edge of the valley.

"The travelers will be fine, Matthews. They will know about the storm as well and take shelter in the shuttle. Most of them have been here before and understand the enviroment," he walked towards the crates and began helping the turian open each one.

Mya sighed, took one of the crates closest to her room, and began to unpack.

When the sandstorm hit it rocked the little shelter back and forth with notable force but didn't cause any damage. The habitat, she discovered, was often used in temperamental places as temporary offices and homes for Council military which meant it had to meet a certain criteria. It may not have looked like a stronghold but it proved to be rather stout and hard to shake.

The winds howl like a pack of angry wolves outside, smacking the metal siding with hurricane-strong winds mixed with sand that Mya was sure would rip the flesh from her bones and then maybe pulverize the bones seconds later. She lay on the small, narrow cot with the little lantern turned on above her head, acting like she was reading Milton as she listened to Thaddeus grumble an old battle tune. Deylos was quietly taking inventory of everything in the cabinets, drawers, etcetera, without the need for any kind of checklist. It secretly impressed her of just how useful eidetic memory could be. No need for datapads, or paper, or forgetting anything!

Then again, you didn't forget anything. Every second of your life, the good and the bad and the horrific moments you wish you would forget, could never escape your mind. She wondered if the neutral calm façade the agent displayed was only a cover for the chaos constantly consuming his brain.

 _Must be very noisy in that mind,_ she thought with a touch of sympathy. She quickly frowned to herself for having such warm feelings for him. She may have forgiven him for the short fuse he lit under her back on Illium, but she still couldn't bring herself to like him.

Much.

Yet.

She heard the creak of leather and a metallic snap and dared to look up from her page to watch Deylos pull off the long trench coat, drape it over one of the chairs at the table then gently place the silver torc on the tabletop.

The drell sank to the chair and openly revealed a weariness she never witnessed. He sighed, quietly, rubbed his pentagoned forehead- lips pursed and dark eyes closed- then began to speak, much to her surprise, to Thaddeus in Turian Major.

Without the translator turned on, which she had done in order to concentrate on her reading, she hadn't a clue what they were saying but listened anyway. It was a fascinating language, an odd mixture of what sounded like ancient Latin and rhythmic hissing. Not necessarily the prettiest tongue but interesting.

"Why do I feel like I should be as old as you, my friend?" Deylos asked the old turian.

Thaddeus humphed through his flat nose and clicked his mandibles into a weak smile.

"Because all you ever do is work, kid. Never give yourself a moment's worth of peace and quiet, which is what you need. Maybe a nice vacation to Virmire, take a walk on those pretty white beaches, a leisurely dip into the aqua-blue waves-"

"I hate swimming," Deylos rumbled as he watched Thaddeus open his omnitool and select the chessboard.

"How could you possibly hate swimming if you were to stay in the lovely beauty that is the 'Tourist Trap of the Galaxy'?" he teased. "Black or white?"

"Black," he sighed and watched the board swing around to his selected set. "I don't need a vacation to some over-priced over-rated so-called tropical oasis. What in the Abyss would I possibly do on Virmire?"

"Stare at the pretty women in barely-there swimwear," Thaddeus chuckled as he moved a pawn. "Maybe that's what you need, really."

"To stare at nearly nude women? Nice thought, but no."

"No, you dummy! Companionship; a warm body to lie next to you and greet you in the morning, after a long night of romance, with a soft kiss. Someone who'll laugh at your stupidity and look at you like you're the most interesting person in the entire world because to them you are. Matter of fact, she just may be in the next room pretending like she's not listening in on our little talk," one vermillion eye winked in suggestion.

Deylos' obsidian eyes blinked both sets of eyelids quickly, right before he snorted through his nose.

"The Ice Queen? Are you serious?! That's a great joke, Thaddeus," he shook his head as he smiled.

"She's not as cold as you think. She's hiding some emotional scarring under that icy demeanor of hers. You told me yourself, the way she sort of hugged you when you gave her that piano program. There's a lot more to her than what she portrays. I'll bet that she'll start revealing her true self before long, and I'll also bet that it'll shock you."

Deylos fell silent as he contemplated Thaddeus' words. Maybe the old soldier was right.

By the time the storm ended, the sun had set and made way for the large twin moons to take their places in the sky. It was an impressive canopy to gaze upon, but the frigid cool air that swept over the landscape quickly took away any awe she may have felt. Mya curled under her blankets, two layers of long-sleeved shirts covering her shivering frame, and tried to sleep. However, it was nearly an impossible feat due to the loud, rattled snoring coming from Thaddeus' bunk. Every time she would begin to drift off the low, dull grumbling provided by the old soldier would shake her awake. After a couple of hours of fighting for rest she gave up.

The drell, on the other hand, was in fact so quiet that she wondered if he was dead. She probably would've sworn on it if she hadn't heard him sigh every few hours. Her only solace that first troubled night were the stack of poetry books next to her cot. She didn't care if the small lamp she turned on woke Deylos. She almost wished he made some kind of noise so she would have an excuse to toss something at him.

When morning came it offered no comfort to the cold, for as soon as it made its appearance the heat suddenly returned and the habitat went from the temperature of an icebox into an oven. Deylos was the first one up, before the glowing ball in the sky rose, and began to assemble the tools he would be using for the day. Mya peeked out from under her fort of blankets and pillow to glare at the drell as he softly walked into the kitchenette, fully dressed in the leather armor, and grab a mug for his tea. The scent of ginger made her brow crinkle with curiosity. Apparently what she offered him on the ship a few days before made some kind of impact.

Moments later Thaddeus made his appearance, also in armor, a little old but still in pristine condition, and began to fix himself breakfast. The strong smell of dextro-amino based "bacon", as some humans had jokingly called the cut of meat turians ate in the mornings, made Mya wrinkle her nose and retreat completely under her pillow. The conversation began among the two, once again in the turian language. This time, Mya turned the communicator back on, hearing the faint chirp echo down her ear canal, and listened in on their talks.

"How'd you sleep, kid?" Thaddeus began as he grabbed a plate from the cabinets.

The sound of a chair scooted across the floor along with the creak of leather as the drell sat down.

"As well as can be expected in a new locale," the drell's dark voice sighed. "You seemed to have taken to your cot happily."

"Meh, can't complain. What about Her Majesty?" she heard a chuckle in the turian's voice. "Looks like she's still enjoying her new quarters."

"She didn't sleep," Deylos answered after he took a sip of his tea.

Mya blinked her eyes open and wondered how he knew that.

"Oh? Well, she's going to be a fun one today. Especially with all the work we have lined up this morning."

"She'll have to push past her sleep deprivation."

The drell walked into the armory, pulled the torobiyte suit from the wall, and walked straight into her bunk where he flung the blankets off her head and met her stare with an indignant smirk.

"Won't she?" he reverted to English.

Mya grumbled as she stood up from the cot and jerked the armor from his hands. She stared at the complicated suit with question and silently wondered just how she was supposed to put it on.

"Shall I help you?" he smiled suggestively, white teeth flashing with mischief.

The human glared at his grin and threw the surprisingly light-weight suit onto the cot.

"I am a physicist, Krios! I have a constant stream of complicated maths swimming around my head as I consider the workings of the natural world. I have calculated, configured and formulated the hypothetical shape of the universe and, possibly, parallel multiverses in regards to what current knowledge we have within the scientific community," she snorted and held aloft her chin with pride.

Deylos waited patiently for her to end her pontificated speech before he casually unclasped the hidden opening at the left side of the suit's breastplate.

"Your chest goes in that part," he said as he walked out of the small bunk and back into the kitchenette where the old turian laughed away.

O . . . O . . . O

"This is a gun," Thaddeus shoved the collapsed Widow into her arms.

Mya's brow lowered over her eyes, refraining from rolling them at the general.

"No shit," she grumbled.

"Ever shoot one before?"

"Not a real one," she stared down at the weapon with curiosity and slight fear.

"Well, you're about to," he announced while shoving two extra thermal clips into his pockets and directed her towards the canyon.

He showed her how to open the gun, load the receiver, and position it correctly against her shoulder. After that he lifted a red painted soda can before her, a pantomime "frowny" face drawn over the lettering.

"This is your enemy. You'll want to target your crosshairs right between the eyes," he motioned to the area between the small black dots.

"My enemy looks a little uncomfortable," she screwed her face into a confused smirk.

Thaddeus began to pace down the canyon's edge then placed the can on a small rock about five-hundred feet away.

"He's about to be really uncomfortable if you do your job right," he returned and coaxed her to lie on the ground, the gun's bipod opened and placed before her. "Take your time to check the wind and the temperature; make sure your picture is as clear as possible before you take your shot. And get your finger off the trigger!" he scolded in a gruff voice.

Mya pulled her hand away and looked up at him in question.

"You never touch the trigger until you're ready to send that bullet out of the barrel. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Mya nodded and tried to relax her breathing. She watched the can in the light of her scope shimmer and shake from the parallax and the rising heat in the sand.

"Now, when you're ready and you think you have the best angle, pull the trigger," he coached.

She felt a calm come over her and suddenly she forgot where she was. Her breathing stilled and the image in the scope became clear. Her finger brushed over the trigger and, with slight resistance, clicked back. A loud crack echoed in the canyon and the gun jerked back into her shoulder.

Thaddeus peeked through his scope and gave a short grunt of approval.

"Not bad, Doc. Not bad at all."

Mya looked down her glass and felt a swelling of happiness. The bullet ripped straight through the center of the can exactly where Thaddeus motioned.

"I can't believe I did that," she whispered to herself. A light patting fell on her armored shoulder as the turian chuckled.

"I can. You're a perfectionist. It makes you a natural. But you still need practice, so, let's set up another killer can."

She rechecked her scope as Thaddeus pulled a new can from his pocket.

"What's the deal with Krios?" she asked casually. "Is there some special law that says he has to be a despicable person and I'm supposed to just love him no matter what?"

Thaddeus blinked in slight surprise as he stopped drawing the mark on the can.

"A despicable person, hmm? Yeah, I can see where you would think that. Deylos has a personal creed about being a professional, and he's used to having the reputation of a savior of sorts. Now, I know you feel like a prisoner and he's some kind of torturer, but, in reality, he's not sure how to handle this situation. He has a job to protect you which I know you hate, but it wasn't his choice in the matter as it isn't in yours. Believe it or not, he's not a bad guy. He's got a good heart."

"I don't see it," she mumbled as she dropped back down on the sand. "He's harsh and arrogant and offers me no kindness."

"Now, just stop right there, Matthews," Thaddeus' dark red eyes narrowed in the light of the sun. "If you had any idea of how much stress he's under you'd bite your tongue. This is a dangerous situation. You found something very special, possibly life-changing for everyone, and there are some very bad men out there who want you dead because of it. Sure, you can try to disappear, but someone will find you, eventually. And no one wants that. Especially Deylos. He's not sure how to handle this and he's doing the best he can to prepare you for the unknown. Either you deal with what you claim to be your own doing or you can fight against those who mean to help you. I assure you, fighting isn't the answer."

Mya sighed sharply and shook her head. Why the hell was everyone being so damned protective of the drell? Was he really all that special? From what she experienced, other than the few moments he did open up to her, she didn't like him. Yet deep in the back of her mind was the little voice who whispered to her to give him a chance. She slid back the cycling receiver and focused down the barrel again.

"Yeah, right," she grumbled as she sent another shot into the red can, ripping it apart into a number of tattered, metallic shards.


End file.
